


Bonded

by virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, Humor, Hunter Dean, Hunter Sam, M/M, Pushy Dean, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sexy Times, Soul Bond, Tattoos, bonded, sam and dean are not brothers, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-02
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:02:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3666858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds Sam and tells him that he has no choice, they are bonded by their matching tattoos and destined to be together forever.  Sam tells him to go to hell and tries to fight these crazy intense feelings that have to be the product of the power of suggestion or a spell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)  
>  Heartfelt thanks to the ever generous apieceofcake who made this lovely story banner for us.
> 
> Co-written with Fetish

Dean looked at the brick exterior of the small town's library and made a face. God... don't let it be some book worm. Some mousy little 'yes man.' Or worse... an accountant with horn-rimmed glasses and a love of ledger-paper. The way his luck was running lately...

Then he felt it, that certain pull. Fuck it, he didn't care if the guy looked like a frog. He was _his_ frog, and it would turn out just fine.

He took the stairs two at a time and shoved the door open, ignoring the startled looks. Good, at least the place wasn't large. He started walking the aisles of books, sometimes getting real close to some of the men reading. Nah, not this one. Not that one. THANK GOD not this one!

He turned into the next aisle, knowing he was right. The guy was here... he had to be. He almost tripped over a man who was about half his height, gave him a second look, and breathed a sigh of relief. Nope, not the one. 

Then he rounded the corner to an area of desks and people sitting around, researching. He walked slowly, stopping by certain people, but his eyes were drawn to the back of the room. He stopped mid-stride to stare. There was a dark-haired man, about... maybe a couple years younger than him, staring into a laptop screen and chewing on the end of a pencil. His hair was longish in the front, covering his eyes. Dean could make out nice even features, a strong jaw, and an almost delicate mouth. 

The guy shoved the pencil sideways into his mouth and started to let his fingers fly over the keyboard, like he was inspired. _It was him._ And _he_ was inspiring Dean in more than one way, if his body's reaction to the thought of those hand playing over himself were any indication.

Grinning, he strode past everyone and stood on the other side of the desk, in front of the brunet "Hey bud, what's your name?" he asked, jutting his chin up.

Sam had come to the library to do some digging on local lore. Something had been said about witches in the area and Sam needed to find out just what kind they were - the 'I got a flower garden and make herbal teas' kind or the 'I conjure demons on the weekends and eat children' kind.

 

He’d been staring intently at his lap top screen reading article after article, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand out of boredom, finding a whole lot of nothing until _finally_ he’d hit something and been deep in concentration. That was why he hadn't noticed the guy walk up to him, though he had the strangest desire to look up all of the sudden, even to get up out of his seat, but Sam had ignored it.

 

It was only after the guy spoke that he allowed himself to look up from his laptop screen, shifting in his chair. Sam raised his brows, then frowned slightly as he pulled a hand away from the keyboard and reached up, pulling the pencil out of his mouth. "Uh," Sam's gaze swept the room before landing back on the stranger, "can I help you?"

"I'm sure you can." Dean's grin widened. The guy wasn't just hot. He was fucking hot. He could wake up next to that face... that bod... he moved to the side to check it out... every day for the rest of his life, for sure. "First things first. What do I call you?"

 

Sam frowned harder as he watched the guy and listened to what he was saying. _Why do I always draw the ones that are buckets o' crazy?_

 

"Uh, yeah... Um, how about if you **don't** call me anything," Sam suggested as he looked into the guy’s eyes, "ever." Sam shook his head and returned his attention to his laptop, placing the pencil back in his mouth, he started typing again.

"How about I call you Baby, or Lover," Dean answered, speaking loudly as he sat on the edge of the table and leaned toward Sam. "Pumpkin, Cherry, or Sweetheart? No? Then give me a name."

 

The pencil dropped out of Sam's mouth, bounced off the edge of his laptop and continued downward onto the floor. Sam was sure everyone in the small library could hear the guy. He stared at him, stunned speechless for half a minute before his utterly shocked expression melted into a look of annoyance bordering on anger.

 

Sam looked around them then back at the guy. "Look, I guess I'm suppose to be flattered and all, but really dude, this is _not_ the way to pick up a date and I'm straight. I have a fiance’ in fact, so, uh, thanks but no," Sam told him, speaking low. 

 

He pushed his chair back then and pulled up to his feet, shutting down his laptop as he stood there waiting for his words to sink through the layers of crazy the guy was obviously sporting inside that head of his and comprehend what he had told him, and then get lost. 

"Two things,” Dean answered, holding up a finger. “One, the proper word is 'mate,' but if you want to use fiance, fine... that would make me your fiance." He held up a second finger, "Two, dude you are so not straight." As if to prove his point, he walked around the table, reaching for him. 

 

Sam glared at the guy as he started with his 'two things'. Mate? Hell would freeze over before this guy was his 'mate', fiance or anything else, and he wasn't looking for that to happen anytime soon. 

 

Sam glared harder at point number two, jaw clenched, muscle twitching. Yeah, okay, he'd lied about the fiance thing, but he did have a kind of girlfriend... well, he saw her when he was in town, which wasn't often, but in his line of work it was as close as he could get to a girlfriend. Hell, she'd have to.... be a hunter too and willing to go from cheap motel to cheap motel, town to town with him and what woman in their right mind would want to do that? No, Madison was as close as Sam would ever have to a true girlfriend. Sure there were the occasional nameless faces but, he always came back to Maddy when he could. So, it wasn't a total lie.

 

Sam opened his mouth to give the guy a piece of his mind when the wack-job advanced on him, reaching for him like he was going to give him a fucking hug or something. Sam darted around to the other side of the table, eyes wide as he looked across it at the guy. "Look, dude, I'm sorry if I upset you or whatever, but this is _not_ cool. I'm not interested. I'm sorry, now, please, just," Sam glanced toward the door, jutting his chin in toward the it, his hands gripping the edge of the table in front of him as he prepared to flee if the guy tried anything again. "Go!"

Dean's gaze narrowed. "Can't do that. You can't hide from your destiny... and we're each others’. You can't resist me anymore than I can resist you." He licked his lips, watched the guy's eyes track the motion of his tongue. Yeah maybe he was a little ahead of the guy, but the guy's feeling would start to kick in soon enough and he'd catch up. 

 

"Destin..." Sam grit his teeth. Holy shit! This guy took the cake when it came to nut jobs! Fuck! And then he licked his lips, those full soft looking lips, and Sam's eyes were drawn downward to watch his tongue move. He blinked a few times as if to clear his thoughts and just glared harder at the guy. What the hell!? 

 

"Open your shirt."

 

Sam's eyes widened as he looked from the guy down at his button up shirt and back. He sputtered, mouth opening and closing before words finally came out, an octave too high. "I am not," Sam glanced around the room, swallowing and trying to talk again, this time his voice was within normal range. "I am _not_ opening my shirt for you, buddy. You don't know me or anything about me. Now just fucking beat it!"

Dean took another couple steps toward him. "I know you're my mate." He was cocksure as ever. "And I know you have one of these on your chest." He opened his own shirt, tugging it to the side to reveal his natural tattoo. "I know you woke up with it when you were thirteen and that you dreamt about me all night long... woke with your probably first wet dream. You're mine, just like I'm yours. No one else will ever do it for you, not now... not after we met.” He let that truth sink in. “Gimme your name."

Sam took two steps backward away from psycho, eyes glued to him. His eyes moved to the expanse of skin bared by Dean and where the guy had a tattoo that matched Sam's own. Same place, same size, same everything. Fucker even got the story right. But there was no way in hell this was the guy he had dreamt about, that guy hadn't been a wacko, that guy had... Sam shook his head glaring at the guy before him. It was a trick, a spell, maybe he was a demon, something. Had to be.

 

Sam grit his teeth. "Christo." he said, loud enough for the guy to hear, but not to drawn unwanted attention. Sam eyed the guy up and down. There was no way he should know about... _any_ of that. The only one who he had told about the history of the tattoo was Missouri and he _knew_ she wouldn't have blabbed to anyone. He had never told another soul.

 

Sam narrowed his eyes, "Look, I dunno what kind of game you're playing, but it's not funny and you need to stop it, right now, okay?" his gaze dropped to his laptop. The guy was still too close to it for Sam to be able to snag it and run the hell out. "Just let me get my stuff and I'll leave and you can stay here, try this little... whatever it is, you have going, out on someone else. Maybe it'll work with them." Sam nodded, reassuringly as he reached across the table for his laptop.

Dean waited silently, then whipped his hand out and gripped the guy's wrist tight. "It's no game. This is about heart. It's about soul. It's about forever," he said seriously, pulling the guy's hand and pressing it over his own tattoo. "It's about destiny. You can't run. You can't hide. From this moment, you and I... we'll need each other more, and more, and it won't stop... it'll just build... until you can't take it anymore... being apart. Trust me, I am not lying to you." His chest rose and fell, and he wanted to pull the brunet into his arms and show him.

When the guy grabbed his wrist, Sam pulled back, his attention leaving the laptop to look up at the guy. Oh shit! His eyes widened slightly as he started talking like a friggin’ Hallmark card. Heart, soul, forever? What the....?

 

Sam's eyes narrowed, was this guy threatening him? Can't run, can't hide. Yeah, okay, that last part there, that did it. This was totally, definitely _not_ funny anymore. He curled his hand pulling it as much away from the guy's chest as possible before yanking back himself back. "Let go of me, now." Sam told him, voice even but deadly. "You're obviously confused, I get that," Sam nodded, "and I don't want to hurt you, but if you don't let go and back. the. fuck. away. from. me. right. now., I am seriously going to whip your ass!"

"What makes you think you can?" The retort was all male and testosterone driven. Dean wished he could prove himself right here and now, but he was sure he'd have the chance later. "My name's Dean. Just so you know what name to call out the next time you jack off, or try to 'make it' with your girl."

Shoving the lap top toward the brunet, Dean stood back, letting his shirt hang open and looking at him with an unflinching gaze.

Just glad that the freak had let him go and was apparently going to let him get his things and leave, Sam remained silent as he closed his laptop and shoved it into the carry-case. _Dean. Yeah, I'll keep that in mind. Riiight. Not!_ Sam looked up at the guy before leaving, something in Sam's stomach somersaulted as he stood there, their gazes locked, slightly slanted champagne hazel clashing with brilliant green. Sam licked his lips, before tearing his gaze away from the guy and turning toward the door, slinging his laptop case strap over his shoulder as he walked. He forced himself _not_ to look back.

Dean shook his head. He'd fought against his destiny too. Fought the pull of his mate, but it had gotten too strong. His need increased daily. His dreams of a faceless stranger that he needed like he needed to breath kept him restless and on edge. Then he'd gone to see Missouri. That psychic was over the top crazy but she'd done right by him, cause his mate was exactly where she'd told him. 

Closing his shirt, Dean walked out. Within twenty four hours... forty eight max... that man would not be able to deny him. Already, Dean's mind was filled with images of all the ways they'd make love... he'd catch up, Sam would catch up with him, then God help Sam if Dean wasn't around and Sam needed a good fucking.

* * *

Sam didn't have a lot of money, most of what he did have was either from hustling pool or credit card fraud, so it wasn't like he could afford to take Madison out somewhere nice every night when he was in town and this time it looked like he might be here a while. He'd seen a movie where the guy did this and it looked romantic enough on film and it was cheap, so Sam gave it a shot. There was a park in the area, just off the main road, back away from the traffic, a large pond off to one side, with ducks and geese, the area, surrounded by lush green grass. In the movie, the couple had a picnic under the stars, just wine and grapes, but it was something, and it was different. So, Sam set it up and took Madison there, carrying the basket she had packed with the wine he'd bought, glasses and 'finger foods' as she called them. It was fruit, cheese and crackers is what it was, but if she wanted to call them something else who was he to stop her?

 

Handing Madison the basket, Sam spread the blanket out for them near the water, but with enough room that they could lay flat and not have their shoes get went. Sam knelt, taking the basket from her hands to set down and gripped her hips, laying his head against her stomach, he closed his eyes, a small smile pulling at his lips as he thought of.... brilliant green eyes, a smattering of freckles across the bridge of a nose, full lips that begged to be kissed, and a pink tongue that kept darting out to moisten them. Sam's eyes snapped open as he shoved Madison away, blinking up at her, eyes wide.

 

"What is it, Sam?" she asked once she regained her balance, "What's wrong?"

 

Sam shook his head, frowning thoughtfully as he looked away, squeezed his eyes closed and reopened them, "I dunno..." he looked back at her, reaching out a hand to her, "I'm sorry, I dunno what that was... bad hunt memories messing with me I guess." He smiled at her, showing dimples and Madison melted into his arms, never able to withstand the power of the dimples.

Dean had stood in the shadows long enough to finally learn his mate's name from the woman he was temporarily seeing. Sam. Samuel? No, Sammy, his Sammy. That thought, and every other thought of branding Sammy, made his tattoo tingle and warm. His eyes flashed as he watched Sam's arms close around the woman, watched his mate's desperate attempts to kiss her like he meant it. There were exaggerated moans, that made him tap his foot. Fake... fake... fake... he kept telling himself, so he wouldn't lose his temper. So he wouldn't walk over there and rip his Sammy from her arms. 

 

Sam was on his back with Madison in his arms, kissing her, his hands running up and down her back, then up into her hair, only to run down again, soft moans leaving them both. 

Her mouth left his, nipping at his bottom lip before she dipped her head and started to kiss along his jaw, down to his neck. Sam moaned, eyes closed as he lay there enjoying the things she was doing to him.

 

He thought about later, about when they got home or maybe in the backseat of the car, about slowly peeling her clothes off, fingers and hands touching sun-kissed skin, searching, exploring, mapping out... He thought about running his hand up over well toned muscles, to the the tattoo... Thought of pulling that body in and kissing full soft lips, of running his hands down his back, gripping and squeezing his ass, pressing his body harder against him, thought about running his fingers up into short cropped hair.... Sam moaned, "Dean..." 

 

His eyes snapped open as Madison went perfectly still. _Holy shit!_ At what part of that had it became the wacko from the library he was thinking about, he had no idea, he'd started out thinking about Madison and somewhere in there... _Oh shit! Oh Hell!_

 

" _What_ did you just say, Sam?" Madison asked him as she slowly drew her head back, chocolate brown eyes gazing into his wide hazels. 

 

Sam licked his lips, shook his head slightly, "Uh, nothin', I didn't say anything." he swallowed hard.

"He said Dean. That would be me," the hunter said distinctly, as he approached them. He sat down next to them, also bending over Sam so that his face was next to Madison's. "I'm right here baby, I know just what you want." He put his palm over Sam's exposed abs, holding him lightly, letting him feel... know how perfect they would be together.

 

At the sound of _his_ voice, Sam felt Madison look up even as he himself saw it was the guy from the library. _Aw, hell!_

 

Madison pulled back further as she listened to this guy, this whoever he was, Dean, as he talked to Sam, _her_ supposed, uh, well, not really boyfriend, but still, he was supposed to be her _something_! Dark eyes darted between the two men, lips parted in shock.

 

Sam scrambled away from Dean's touch, tugging his shirt down as he back crawled away from him, before reaching for Madison. "Go, get in the car, lock all the doors, roll up the windows, I'll be there in a minute," Sam told her, never taking his eyes off Dean. 

 

"Sam, who is he?"

 

Sam glanced over at her, "I'll explain later, just go!" he told her. Thankful that she listened and quickly pulled to her feet. Sam watched her hurry to the car and get inside before he looked back at Dean. "Look, I guess I didn't make myself clear earlier," Sam said as he pulled to his feet, looking down at the guy. "When I said no, I meant no! Stop following me! Stop harrassing me! And STOP scaring my girlfriend!" Sam swore under his breath as he shook his head, reaching for the basket they had yet to even open. 

"Hold on... I could'a sworn you're the one who called me," Dean said matter of factly, getting up. "Look, I told you, now that we met, she just won't do it for you. I'd be surprised if you even 'get it up' without thinking about me. Like you were right now."

Sam straightened to his full height, basket forgotten as he glared at Dean. "I didn't _call_ you! And how I 'get it up' is _none_ of your goddamn business! Go to hell and leave me the fuck alone!" Snatching up the basket, he started for the car. He didn't give a rats ass about the blanket, let it stay there. He just wanted to get the hell away from _him_.

"Sam. I can make you cum just by talking... that's some powerful connection." Dean followed slowly. "Did you think about my mouth on yours? I want to taste you so bad... I dream about it... all the time. Did I kiss you over your tattoo? Did you feel it tingle and burn? Do you know what it would like feel if I went down on you? My mouth around your cock. You'd cum and cum, until I told you you could stop... that's how much you need me."

 

Sam paused in his steps as the guy kept right on with his crazy talk, and following him. _Dammit!_ He turned around, glaring at the guy as he set the basket on the ground beside him. "You're certifiable," Sam nodded, "you know that?" he asked jaw clenched, muscle twitching. "You're fucking fruit loops! Listen to me, seriously, go get help. You need it. You got the hots for me? Well, the object of your odd ass obsession just told you to go get mental help! So do it!" Sam huffed as he eyed Dean. "No one can cum just from someone talking, and there is no way in hell you could _ever_ make me cum and cum until you tell me I can stop. It's medically impossible! Nice thought though, I think I'll try it out with MY GIRLFRIEND!" he shouted at him, before snatching up the basket. "And stop following me!" he snapped as he started walking again.

Once again, Dean followed him. When they reached the car, he grabbed Sam and slammed him back against the car. He'd been expecting it, so it was easy to block his punch and suddenly pin him against the car. Dean stepped between Sam's legs, making sure their bodies touched everywhere. "Is your heart beating fast? It's not because you're scared. You're biting your lip... it's called flirting." He moved closer, almost brushing those reddened lips. "Your breath is catching and your eyes... God if you could see your pupils."

 

Sam glared at Dean. His heart _was_ pounding. Adrenaline. He was biting his lip so he wouldn't scream more at the guy and scare the hell out of Madison, he was _not_ flirting! His breath was catching, sure, he was freaked the fuck out. Who wouldn't be? And there was _nothing_ going on with his eyes, dammit! It was none of those things the guy was saying, None. At least that's what he told himself, even as he felt his cock twitch.

He started to feel Sam's body come alive against his. "I could make you cum and cum... it's not impossible. When you need me bad enough, phone me." He leaned in and whispered his number over Sam's ear, and let him go. "Don't be stubborn," he pointed at him as he backed away. "You'll only be hurting yourself and me."

 

Sam fought the urge to swallow hard, figuring the guy would point _that_ out as something suggestive too. Not that he was going to admit that the things Dean was saying, what he was telling him it could be like we're affecting him, making him want them, want them so bad... He was just horny. Hell, it had been months now, and he hadn't been here, had been too busy on hunts, only falling into bed. He and Madison had been making out, it was natural that he'd be hard right now. It sure as hell wasn't because he could feel every line of the other guys body and no, he was _not_ straining against him, toward him. He was trying to get away, dammit!

 

Sam huffed about not being stubborn, licking his lips. For some odd reason there was an empty feeling gnawing at his stomach because he hadn't gotten to taste... OH HELL NO! Sam spun around and tugged open the car door as Madison unlocked it, quickly sliding behind the wheel.

As he watched Sam drive off, Dean felt physical pain at the separation. He wanted so badly to finish what he'd started. But he also needed Sam primed to accept him. He knew it was inevitable, but that didn't mean he was going to force him. Sam would come to him soon, would need him like he needed to breathe. All Dean had to do was wait... and maybe nudge... cause waiting... waiting was a bitch when you'd found the man of your dreams and wanted to get started with the rest of your life.

* * *

 

Sam sat in the cheap motel room at the small table gazing unseeingly at the laptop screen. It was a curse or a spell, had to be. Maybe this Dean was one of the witches he'd heard about in the area. Sam squirmed in his chair, reaching a hand down to press against his cock, straining against his jeans, achingly hard.

 

He huffed and shook his head, running his free hand through his hair. He'd come to the conclusion that this was more than some sort of fixation and something supernatural the moment he had been unable to do.... anything with Madison after he took her home. Nothing she did, nothing he did had seemed to work. God, he had feared for a while that he'd studdenly been struck impotent. Fuck!

 

Not that he would put that past a pissed off witch, especially a jealous one. Dammit. He reached down with his other hand, unfastening the button and zipper of his jeans, pushing them down slightly, freeing his rock hard cock. Wrapping his hand around it, Sam started to stroke himself as he sat back in the chair, head tilted back.

 

It had been only _after_ he had gotten back to his motel room and thought again of his wicked witch that his damn dick had decided to show that it wasn't down and out for the count. No, now instead it was so fucking hard it was painful. Fuck! He'd actually thought about going back over to Madison's but how exactly would that look? 'Hi, I got it up, wanna screw?' yeah, definitely not his idea of a cool thing to do.

 

Instead, he'd tried to ignore it, researching spells and lore on spells and the witches in the area and anything else he could think of that might tell him what the hell that bastard had done to him.

 

"Fuck!" Sam pulled his head up and looked down at his cock, "What the hell is your problem!" he yelled at it.

 

This wasn't working, thinking about Madison wasn't working, neither was it helping to think about Julia Styles, Alanis Morrisette, Milla Jovovich or any other of his norms. Fuck! His mind started to wander as he sat there stroking himself and flashes of brilliant green eyes ran through his mind, full lips that would look so good stretched around his cock and feel even better. Sam felt his cock harden even more, precum pearling at the tip. Fuck! No! No! No! He was _not_ going to think about that asshole! No way! Forget it!

 

Sam stuffed himself back into his boxers and tried again to concentrate on the computer screen. Another twenty minutes passed and Sam was so hard, so horny, so on fire, he was ready to scream. Pulling from the chair he staggered over to the bed, collapsing down, face first onto the mattress with a groan. "I hate you!" His yell was muffled by the pillow.

* * *

 

Dean walked quietly into the room and found Sam laying on his back on the couch, one leg straight, his other foot flat on the ground. Stepping up to the arm of the couch and leaning over it, he whispered, "hi sexy." By the time the brunet's eyes fluttered open, Dean had brought his mouth down over Sam's in a slow, but insistent upside down kiss. He ran his hands over Sam's chest, down and up, lingering, memorizing, then curling his fingers under the hem of his tee and inching it up. Now his hands moved over hot, quivering flesh, as he easily marched his lover-to-be toward a full on raging hard on.

Hearing _his_ voice Sam's heart somersulted as he slowly woke, lashes fluttering up. _He_ was there. Before Sam could muster a thought as to whether he was glad about that or if he should run like hell, the guy, Dean, had slanted his mouth over his. _So good. He tasted so good. Don't stop. Don't ever stop._ It was just a kiss so far, but Sam didn't want it to ever end, didn't want the empty feeling he _knew_ would be there once the guy drew away.

 

He was touching him now, his strong calloused hands on Sam's chest, first through the fabric of his shirt, then under it. Oh God, since when did it feel so good to just be caressed? Sam found himself arching his back, pressing his chest into Dean's hands, needing his touch. Needing it so damn much he thought he'd go mad without it. A moan sounded deep in Sam's throat as he raised an arm, wrapped it backward around Dean's neck, not wanting him to stop, to pull back, to go anywhere and leave him vacant, feeling empty. His breaths started coming faster, his cock growing harder by the second it seemed, straining against his jeans. Sam moaned low and long, the sound swallowed up in their kiss.

As he carressed and touched, Dean ocasionally broke his kisses to whisper to Sam. "Made for me. Just for me." His thumb almost idly moved over Sam's tattoo, sending a jolt of heat through both of their systems with each pass. "All my life... knew something was missing. A part of me. Nothing filled that gap. Not all the women in the world." His voice was low and velvety, slightly husky. 

 

Sam wasn't so sure what the guy was saying was right, but at the moment he didn't care. Madison hadn't been able to do it for him, none of the famous hotties he normally thought about when he jerked off had done anything, but this guy, this Dean was doing it for him. He was getting his body to respond like no one else was able to. He was rock hard and all they had done was kiss and it felt so good, every time Dean touched him it felt like heaven, sent warmth and pleasure shooting through his system.

Dean moved one hand lower, over the button of Sam's jeans, playing with it. His mouth slid off Sam's, moving over his jaw, and his throat as he stretched down Sam's body. "Then one day, no one satisfied me... nothing could... not until I found you. Only you Sam, please believe." Kissing his chest over his shirt, he moved lower, and landed wet kisses on Sam's stomach, his hand now covering the buldge between Sam's legs. "Believe in me... believe in this."

Sam's hips thrust upward toward Dean's hand on the button of his jeans. He hadn't even meant to do it... he didn't think, but hell, he couldn't form a thought right now to save his life anyway. His body's nerve ends seemed raw, exposed and Dean it appeared knew how to touch each one. Sam's head turned, offering more of his neck to Dean, his breaths coming faster, chest rising and falling with each one. Sam took in a deep breath, nostrils flaring, as he pressed his lips together to keep himself from screaming out at the guy to just do it. Fuck him, do _something_!

 

As Dean cupped him, Sam groaned, head rolling as his eyes closed, hips thrusting upward into Dean's hand. Sam bit into his lip harder, his face contorting in almost a painful look as he fought not to tell Dean to do it, to tell him that he needed him, wanted him. Sam raised his hands to his eyes, heel of his palms covering his eyes as he groaned, lips parting as his breaths panted out. "Oh fuck!" he sucked in air between his teeth as he pulled his hands down and looked at Dean, blinking a few times. "What," Sam's hips jerked upward again into the palm of Dean's hand cupping him, his body shuddering slightly. Sam licked his lips, "What did you do to me? This a spell?" he asked, brows furrowed as his head rolled on the pillow. 

Dean didn't answer. "Cum for me again..." He hardly touched Sam and the brunet's body came off the sofa as a groan was torn from the back of his throat. "Again... and again... Cum again...."

 

*

 

Sam sucked in a sharp breath as he lifted his head, face out of the pillow his eyes taking in the motel room as he rolled over with a loud groan. He was still fucking hard as hell! For a wet dream, it sure as hell hadn't done much for his physical body other than, if it was possible, make him harder, hornier, ache more. Sam's hands went to the waistband of his jeans and shoved them down along with his boxers, freeing his straining erection. "Oh God..." his head rolled on the pillow.

 

What the hell was he going to do? Sam looked toward the nightstand, the alarm clock and the motel phone there caught his eye.

 

Call. He could call Dean. "Ahhhhug!" With a groan from the ache between his legs and the fact that he was actually seriously considering calling that nut job, Sam pulled his cell out of his jeans pocket and called the number the guy had whispered to him. He wasn't even sure how in the hell he remembered it, in fact he said a silent prayer as it rang that he'd gotten the number right.

Dean immediately picked up. "Sammy?" His voice was hoarse. "Tell me its you, baby."

Sam groaned into the phone. "Oh God, what did you do to me? Fuck! I'm -" Sam licked his lips. How was he going to do this? Just call up some stranger and tell him, 'Hi, I can't cum, make me?' Shit! Fuck! He had totally not thought this out.

Sam panted, chest rising and falling as he reached down with his free hand and gripped his cock, squeezing, slowly starting to pump. "Whatever you did, undo it, please. I can't," he shook his head though Dean wouldn't see it. "I can't take it anymore."

"I didn't do anything. You think I'm not going through the same thing." Dean's breaths were labored. He stroked himself harder, listening to Sam's sweet need-filled voice, his breaths. "Sammy, you're hard for me. You need me. You want my mouth on your cock... you want to fuck my mouth, you want my body on top of yours, you need to hear the words..." He squeezed his eyes shut. "Cum. Cum for me Sam, right now. Fucking cum for me," he demanded, head thrown back as his own balls drew up tight against his body.

Sam panted out his breaths as he pumped his cock faster. Images, _those_ images, the things Dean was saying, going through his head, making him ache, his cock leak precum down the side. "Oh God, Dean..."

 

Sam felt his balls draw up, heat coil tightly in his lower belly, he raised his head off the pillow, looking down at himself, face contorted with pleasure/pain. "Oh Fuck!" he ground out the words, just before he threw his head back, slamming it into the pillow, as his back arched his cock up into his fisted hand. Sam came hard and hot, coating his fist, spilling onto his stomach. His breaths panted out through parted lips, as his neck arched back further.

"Sammy? You listening? One more time, baby." As the words left his lips, Dean re-imagined the sounds that had left Sam the first time he came, and just like that, he was shooting spunk across the room like he hadn't just come. Breathing hard, he waited for Sam to talk. To ask to meet him. To fall into his arms and leave with him.

 

Sam was breathing heavy, trying to calm down from his intense orgasm when he frowned into the phone. "Wha- What? Ah- again!? Are you nuts? It almost killed me _this_ time." he licked his lips, "And I am _not_ your 'baby'! If you hadn't done... whatever, I wouldn't even have called you!" Completely irritated and not just a little angry, Sam pulled the cell from his ear and hit the END button, tossing the cell onto the bed beside him.

 

The guy was a fucking loon! _YOU called him, dumbass!_ , he berated himself as he reached up with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes closed. Crazy must be catching or else he _never_ would have called that guy, and **especially** not so he could get off to images of having the guy suck his dick and fuck him. No way! Uh-uh, never.


	2. Chapter 2

It was an old abandoned warehouse. Dusty, but it was clear someone or some persons had been here. Dean squatted down next to chalk markings on the ground, across from where there was evidence of black candle drippings. He was positioned to look like he was in deep thought, even though he was doing his best to hide a grin as he heard Sam's foot falls drawing closer. 

After gathering all the information he could on the local witches in the area, Sam ended up at the old abandoned warehouse. Parking his dark blue Chevelle SS, across the street, he made his way over to the place, his gaze sweeping the area, eyes squinted against the sun's glare. That was when Sam saw _him_. He was crouched down next to the markings Sam needed to take a look at. _Great, what the hell is he doing here? Probably part of the Goddamn coven!_

Sam sighed as he approached him, stopping directly across from Dean on the other side of the chalk markings. He toocrouched, looking down at the chalk drawing, trying to just do his job and completely ignore that _he_ was even there. Running the tips of his fingers over the chalk markings, Sam frowned down at it, then turned slightly to look at the black candle drippings. Returning his gaze again to the chalk markings. Yep, he was going to totally ignore that the guy was even there. Just block him the hell out. Completely and totally.

Dean shook his head and gave an exaggerated sigh. "You know, you don't have to follow me around and pretend it's an accident. All you had to do was ask me out... you already have my number." He got up, and moved next to the lanky hunter and gave a loud sniff. "Nice aftershave. If it had been one of those overly sweet ones, I'd would have had to tell you to get something else."

Sam slowly turned his head to look up at the guy. " _I_ am _not_ following _you. You_ are following _me_." He narrowed his eyes, "thanks, I'll be sure to tell Madison to get me one of those 'overly sweet ones' next time then. Maybe it'll make you fuck the hell off!" he pulled to his full height and started heading deeper inside the warehouse, shaking his head angrily.

"Not what you were saying this morning," Dean called after him, laughter in his voice. He waited until Sam was out of sight, then walked in the opposite direction.

Sam swore under his breath as he turned a corner, gun drawn, hunter's instincts on full alert as he crept past an office, staying close to the shadows and areas where he could easily hide if need-be. Finding no one around, he stepped back through the warehouse, a little less on edge as he lowered his gun, though always ready for the unexpected. It was a requirement that came with the job, seemed that when everything looked fine, that was exactly when it wasn't. Sort of like with ole whats-his-name outside. Yeah, definitely a witch, or something... something evil sent here to torture the hell out of him, most like. Sam huffed at the thought, making his way toward an open closet area that lacked a door. Part of the wall seemed to have been torn away, revealing the pipes inside. Great, just want he wanted to do. Now, not only had he had to deal with the jackass out there, now he was going to have to climb inside a wall. Today sucked out the ass!

Reaching around to his back, Sam shoved his gun into the waistband of his jeans and stepped through the torn part of the wall, making sure not to get caught up on the jagged boards around the opening as he pulled his other leg through. Inside the wall was a tight fit, dirty, musty, dusty and moldy. Gee, couldn't these places, ever, just once, be nice? Sam started to edge his way along inside the wall, back plastered to one wall, the wall before him mere inches away from his front, leaving little room to move.

Dean waited patiently, occasionally smiling as he heard the sounds Sam made as he forced his body through the crawl space between the walls. He'd made that exact journey just a couple of days back, which was why he knew the other way to get into the same crawl space and was waiting in there for him. The tiny light that Sam was flashing got closer... closer... closer... "Don't shoot, bro, it's only me," he announced. "What was it you said about not following me?"

Sam nearly groaned in annoyance at the fact that _he_ was fucking there AGAIN! Sam's hand was still behind his back, his fingers curled around the handle of his gun. "Because it _is_ you, I might shoot you." He narrowed his eyes, "I am _not_ your _bro_ , or your _baby_ or your anything else! And I _am NOT_ following YOU! YOU keep following ME! Every fucking where I go now, there _you_ are! You know," he glared, "I think they have stalking laws now, because of freaks like you!" Sam released his gun and started edging back the way he had come.

"Fuckin' place isn't going anywhere, I'll come back," he looked back at the guy, "AFTER you leave!" The idea that he would have to wait to do his hunting was pissing Sam off almost as much as the guy was. This as the best time to do it and there didn't seem to be anyone around, later, he might not be that lucky. Dammit to hell! 

"Yeah, you're right. Doesn't go anywhere. Just this... I dunno, there's like a brick wall with stuff hanging on it. Hair, nails... like some crazy serial killer's trophies," he shrugged as if it meant nothing, like he didn't know the bits and pieces on the wall might spell out something or be in a ritualistic pattern. 

Sam grit his teeth. Dammit all! The stuff Dean was describing sounded like items used in black magic, or maybe even in sacrifices, what was left of the victims. He needed to see them.

"Oh, Sammy, one other thing before you go." He could just make out Sam turning back. "Thank God you're not my bro, cause dude... the things we're gonna do together, they'd just be so wrong."

Sam started back toward Dean, only to stop in his tracks again, glaring daggers at the guy. " _We_ are NOT going to be doing anything! There is no _we_ , get that through your thick head, dude!" Sam spat at him, as he continued toward Dean, glancing back the way he had come when he heard a rustling sound, but found only a rat scurrying by. 

Nearly beside Dean, Sam licked his lips as his heart somersaulted again, his stomach feeling tied in knots. He swallowed hard before looking over at Dean, his eyes not quite meeting Dean's, instead looking somewhere past him, "Wh-where is this stuff?" he asked him, trying to not show how just being close to the guy was actually affecting him.

"Back there, where the wall veers to the left. Nothing much to see. What did you find where you came from?" Seeing Sam shake his head, he added, "I think I'd rather see for myself." He stood his ground, gaze locked with Sam's... the idea of their bodies pressing together making his gut clench so damned hard he could barely breath. "Start walking backwards."

Sam frowned at him, "What!? I just told you..." Sam huffed angrily as he started to take a step back the way he had come, rolling his eyes as he did and stopping. "No! Hell no! What the hell do _you_ need to go back there for, huh!? I want to see what mess you left behind!" Sam told him, jutting his chin in the opposite direction and glaring angrily.

"Like I trust what you found any more than you seem to trust that I got nothing?" Dean started to go toward Sam, his leg sliding over the other hunter's powerful thigh and making his heart rate kick up a notch or ten. "Why so jumpy," he asked, feeling Sam tense. "I don't bite... unless you want me to," he winked, and pushed a little harder.

Sam clenched his teeth, muscle flexing in his jaw as he looked away from the guy, shuffled his feet in the other direction slightly. The push and press of Dean's body as he started to move against the opposite wall had Sam sucking in a breath and banging his head back against the wall. "Could you _please_ just _not_ do that!?" Sam asked him, eyes toward the ceiling before he finally looked down into Dean's brilliant green gaze and swallowed hard. 

The small amount of body contact already had Sam's cock twitching, taking interest in the other person who was extremely too close for this to be happening. He cleared his throat and made a face as he tore his gaze away from Dean, looking at the floor. "Just, go. Just move." Sam told him, fingertips digging slightly into the dirty wood of the wall behind him.

Pushing just a little more, Dean brought their bodies into solid contact, from ankles, to legs, to hips and abs. He only wished that he'd thought to ditch his damned jacket. "Fuck... Sammy... don't tell me this doesn't feel right," he pleaded. "You know you want it... you want me. I want you. What's the problem?"

Sam lifted his head to look at Dean then squeezed shut at the feel of Dean's body pressed so tightly against his own. _Holy Fuck!_ Sam bit his lip to contain the moan that wanted, so badly, to escape. Forcing his eyes open, Sam glared at Dean, though his breathing was heavier, chest rising and falling with each one, and his damn cock was hard... AGAIN! Fuck! "My name, is Sam. Not Sammy, not any other variation you think up in that messed up brain of yours. Just, Sam." He licked his lips as his tilted his head back against the wall, swallowing. "And no, I don't want you, Dean. Sorry, but no. I - I just.... I get claustrophobic." Sam tried the lie on for size and thought it was a pretty good one.

"I see. Alright," he nodded. "Guess that must be your gun pressing into me. Maybe I should just reposition it," he started to move his hand between their bodies, inching it downwards. "What do you like for breakfast? Do you like to eat?"

Sam moved quickly, head lifting from the wall as his hand moved to reach between their bodies, grasping Dean''s wrist, eyes narrowed. "You touch my _gun_ and I will fucking kill you," he sneered. Sam slowly released Dean's wrist, letting his head fall back against the wall again. He sighed, swallowing again. Tried to focus on something other than the feel of the guy's body against his, the way his cock was achingly hard, the way his body seemed to be ultra sensitized suddenly, even his tattoo seemed to be tingling. "I, uh, coffee and whatever I grab at the closest food joint before hitting the road." He frowned at Dean, "Why? And so help me if you say it's so you'll know what to get me the 'morning after', I swear to God, I will knee you in the fucking balls!"

"No, it's not for the morning after. It's for the morning after that, and the next, and every morning after." Licking his lips, Dean moved his hands to Sam's hips, holding them as if he intended to pass him, but made no move to do so. "You like music? Movies? What are you afraid of? Hmmm?" With each question, he moved his face closer, until only a fraction of an inch separated their lips. 

Sam glared harder at Dean, a low growl of rage sounding in his throat. There wasn't suppose to be a thrill that went through him at what Dean was implying. Or the idea that there would be 'night befores'. No, none of it was suppose to make his stomach clench and his breaths catch. Not one single bit of that shit. Fuck! It had to be a spell or curse and if this guy, this Dean, wasn't a witch, wasn't the one doing the casting, then he was just as much a victim as Sam himself was. Okay, that being semi-thought out, Sam decided he should be a little nicer to the guy, hell maybe he's as freaked by all this as Sam was. 

Sam's gaze dropped to the guys hands on his hips and the threat that he was going to break his fucking fingers if he didn't let go, died on his tongue. _Be nice_ he told himself over and over again. He glanced down the way he had come then looked back at Dean, wondering _why_ he wasn't moving and dreading the answer he had a feeling he already knew. "Yeah, music, movies," Sam nodded, "great." He looked away again, in the direction _he_ wanted to be going. Well, if Dean wasn't going to move, he could stand there all damn day if he wanted to, didn't mean Sam had to.

With a sigh as he looked back at Dean, Sam gave a nod. "Okay, you, uh, stand there all day like you are, and I'm gonna go to work now," he told him, before starting to slide his foot along the floor.

If he'd shrunk back against the wall, Sam could have gotten by. Dean did the opposite, taking up as much room as possible, and forcing Sam to press into him so hard they'd be wearing each other's imprints if they stood like this. He put one hand on Sam's cheek, cupping it. "You like your music fast, or slow? New or classic? Are you a meat and potatoes kinda guy, or do you eat rabbit food? You like the rain? Or hot summer days?" God he wanted to lean in and just take what he wanted, what was his. Why was Sam so stubborn?

Sam huffed, temper at the boiling point and it wasn't all from what he idiot was saying and doing either, it was at his damned body's responses to it. God, he was so fucking hard for the guy. Oh holy hell... he just thought _'for the guy'_ , what the hell was the matter with him!? "What the hell are you doing!?!?" Sam yelled at him through clenched teeth, unable to stand this a moment longer.

"What? What am I doing?" Dean was all innocence, even as he spoke near Sam's ear, his hot breath fanning over Sam's cheek. He felt Sam tense some more, so he pulled back slighty. "Speed dating. That's what I'm doing." Before Sam could say anything, he added, "thanks, I had fun," and leaning in, he slanted his mouth over Sam's, kissing him firmly as if to end the date, and quickly pushing past. As he made his getaway, he whistled a happy tune.

Sam was breathing heavily and more than a little thankful for the small area once Dean had torn his lips away from his, leaving him feeling like his knees were going to buckle. Licking his lips, he watched, stunned as Dean disappeared out of the warehouse. 

* * *

Sam sat on a stool, facing the door, in the back of some crowded seedy bar on the outskirts of town, working on his fifth glass of Jim Beam. His plan? To get so damn drunk off his ass that there was no way in hell he would wind up with another hard on that could cut fucking glass and no need to call whats-his-name. Nope, he wasn't going to do it. Not tonight, not ever again. He wasn't going to think about it, not even a little bit, and if Sam had his way, he'd never have to lay eyes on the jerk again.

The getting drunk part was working just fine. It was the not thinking about Dean part that even his inebriated mind seemed to not be able to do. Instead, zeroing right in on thoughts of Dean's hard body pressed to his, his breath fanning Sam's cheek, lips so close, his brilliant green eyes looking at him like _he_ was the best thing in the world, like he actually mattered. The smattering of light freckles across the bridge of his perfectly shaped nose, and those lips that just begged to be kissed and nipped and.... Sam groaned and flopped his head down on the table in front of him. As he did the bartender looked over. It had become their communication that Sam needed another refill. Whenever Sam groaned like that good ole... what the hell was his name? Chuck, yeah, Chuck that was it... would send over another glass.

Sam kept his face buried in the crook of his arm and nodded, "Yeah, I need it bad." he called to the bartender, as he tipped the small tumbler he held in one hand on the table back and forth to show him he was nearly out.

For a long time, Dean watched Sam's efforts to get himself drunk. Maybe he'd loosen up, or be easier to handle. Well that was Dean's hope, anyway. At least he didn't have his so called girlfriend with him, that was a plus. Even though he knew damn well that she couldn't do it for Sam anymore, he still hated the idea of anyone else's hands on what belonged only to him.

Deciding Sam had enough, he walked up behind him, put a hand out to hold the bar's edge on either side of Sam's body, basically trapping him, and leaned in to speak over his ear. "You need it, me, so bad you can barely think? You so hard, the thought of walking out that door is painful? You want me to kiss you... it... better?" He asked, dipping his tongue into Sam's ear. "Say the word baby, you know I'm all yours."

Sam tensed as soon as he heard the guy's voice at his ear, for a brief moment wondering if he had actually imagined him being there, just conjured him up out of no where, but as the guy continued talking, the feel of his warm breath against his skin, Sam knew Dean wasn't a figment of his drunken imagination.

He was all set to turn around and tell the guy to go straight to hell, do not pass go, do not collect a hundred dollars, just go. to. hell., when the guy's tongue dipped into his ear and Sam thought he was going to bust-a-nut right there, just cum in his fucking jeans in the middle of the damn bar. He groaned again, barely lifting his head, just enough so he could look at, uh... what the hell was the bartenders name again? He couldn't think past the throbbing ache between his legs. Sam waved the glass slightly again at the man behind the bar. "Dude, I need another one," he grumbled before lowering his head again, burying his face, and ignoring his stalker.

Glimpsing Sam's troubled profile before he dropped his head down again, Dean felt his heart constrict. "Sammy, it's not so bad," he whispered, almost nuzzling the back of his neck. Damn, his clean fresh scent made Dean's mind spin with images of the two of them rolling around in bed. Skin against skin. Mouth to mouth. Swallowing each others' moans ... it could be so damned incredible, if Sam would just let it happen. "Never be alone again. Never have that hole in your heart, never wonder what the hell's missing from your life. Never ask yourself if anyone would miss you if something happened. I'm the answer to every question you ever had, and you're mine Sammy.... mine."

Sam lifted his head, turning slightly on his stool to look at Dean as he raised one hand to absently rub his shirt against his tattoo as it tingled and burned, frowning at him. "You think you are, huh?" Sam asked him, leaning his side heavily against the bar. Sam smiled a small slightly goofy smile and leaned toward Dean nodding, "You wanna know what I think?" he whispered, his mouth close to Dean's ear. Sam pulled back suddenly, "I think I need to pee." With that he turned and stood staggering to his feet and stumbled toward the bathrooms.

Dean nodded at that unexpectedly unromantic response whispered like Sam was saying he loved him. Letting him go, he accepted the glass the bar tender brought over for Sam, and took a long drink. Then he casually left the bar and walked to the head.

There seemed to be a line to the women's restroom, but when he got inside the men's, it was empty. Except for Sam, who was bent over the sink washing his hands. Dean came up behind him, pressing his front to Sam's back as tightly as he had in the wall space earlier that day, and closing his arms round him. "You wanna know what I think? I think that was an invitation to show you."

Sam froze, one hand on the faucet to turn off the water as he stood there with Dean's arms around him. Slowly, he raised his head, looking at the guy in the mirror in front of them as he swallowed hard and managed to get his hand to turn the faucet dial.

Dean ran his hand all over Sam's chest, resting it over his tatt, while he used his other hand to cup Sam's cock, dragging him closer that way. He pressed his mouth against the soft skin of Sam's throat. "Kiss me Sam... you'll see how perfect it is." Yeah, demonstrating in the crapper hadn't been on his 'to do' list.

Sam bit back the moan that wanted to escape at the feel of the guy's hands on him, his chest, stopping at his tatt. The thing burned and tingled at the contact of Dean's hand over it through the thin cotton of his shirt. When Dean cupped his aching shaft, Sam's moan escaped much to his own horror, as his head fell back against Dean's shoulder, giving Dean better access to his neck. 

Sam licked his lips, eyes closing. "You know how wrong this is, right? I don't even know you," Sam managed to whisper out as he turned in Dean's embrace, breaths panting out, chest rising and falling with each one. Slightly slanted, alcohol and passion glazed hazel eyes gazed into brilliant jade green for a few moments as neither of them moved. "I shouldn't want this as much as I do, shouldn't want you to show me." Sam told him softly, leaning in, as his gaze dropped to those 'oh-so-sinful' lips. "Want you." Sam whispered out, as his lashes fluttered, eyes closing as his mouth slanted over Dean's.

"I'm a hunter, have been since I was six. I like my music and my cars classic. Saving people and snuffing out the bad guys is my thing. I love coffee and fast food, and _I was made for you._ Anything else you need to know, you can learn as we go," Dean managed to say before Sam's lips touched his. It was like a fire igniting between them, so fucking hot even he wasn't prepared for the searing heat. Instinctively, Dean hooked his palm around that back of Sam's neck, holding him in place as he claimed Sam's mouth, branding it as his, exploring every corner, tangling his tongue with Sam's. Their bodies melded together, rubbing subtly and sending small electrical charges through Dean, making him so damned hard his jeans were stretched to the maximum over his cock. He moaned, his fingers curling, tangling around Sam's hair, forcing him closer. He knew right here, right now, that there could never be anyone else for him... no one. 

Dean's words were a dull white noise to Sam's clouded mind. Between the hunger to know, to experience this, to have Dean show him how good it could be, to put out the fire that seemed to rage through him every-fucking-time the guy was around and the damn alcohol he had consumed, Sam wasn't thinking to clearly, wasn't listening very well at all other than to what his body demanded of him. And what it demanded was this guy, this man before him, Dean. Sam drew his lips away, their breaths panting into one another's mouths as he opened his eyes to mere glazed slits. "Uh-huh," Sam breathed out in answer to what had been said to him. He licked his lips, the tip of his tongue nearly touching Dean's as he did. Sam shook his head slightly, "I don't even know what I'm doin' here," he grinned slightly, drunkenly, dimples showing.

"One time," Sam nodded, "I guess just once won't hurt," he said softly, before his eyes fluttered closed and he leaned in capturing Dean's lips once more.

That was actually _twice_ , but Dean wasn't about to argue, not when he'd craved Sam's mouth the instant Sam's lips parted. With all his experience, Dean had never felt such hunger, such all consuming need. He used his body, pushing Sam back slowly toward the wall, then pressing him against it as he continued to kiss him fiercely, claiming him, weaving his tongue in and out of his silky hot mouth. Every cell in his body was reacting, demanding, wanting... "Fuck..." he pulled back, and looked into Sam's eyes. "I need you. Come home with me."

Sam pressed his lips together, the need, the desire to say yes, warring with the knowledge that he shouldn't... should he?

This had to be wrong. Sam glanced toward the door, looking back at Dean as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, tasting Dean. His cock was aching, his body was on fire, breaths coming faster as he thought about it, about going home with Dean, about kissing him, touching him, fucking him. A low moan broke from Sam, before he nodded. "Yeah, okay, alright," he told him, glancing at the door again, unsure that he was making the right decision, but unable to say no. "Just - just let's hurry up, go, now."

"Okay." Dean almost sagged with relief. He'd never had this much trouble with a woman, nor wanted anyone this much. Tugging the door open, he practically pushed Sam through it. "I'll drive," he muttered. He was so hard, he didn't know if he could wait to get to the motel. It might just be worth it to spring for a place that was closer. As they walked through the tables, he started to put his arm around Sam's waist when a woman's voice called his name. He turned his head and saw Sam's _ex_ -girlfriend. "No time to stop... not now," he nudged Sam forward.

Sam turned his head hearing his name called and saw Madison. Damn she looked good tonight. Her dark hair hanging full and long down her back, framing her face, bangs pushed to the side. She had on that white dress he told her was nearly illegal the way it clung to her every curve and dipped low in the front. She smiled at him as their eyes met across the room and Sam was about to turn and go over to her when Dean was telling him that they didn't have time to stop, nudging him closer toward the door.

Madison had gotten off work early and had gone home to change, knowing where to look for Sam. Every seedy bar in town or the outskirts. Those were his hangouts of choice, not that she understood it, but he had always told her that there were stories there, floating amongst the dregs of humanity. Those that no one else would listen to, but he would. It was what he did, heard the people who others said were crazy, that believed their basement was haunted or that the boogeyman lived in their closet.

She had looked for him here and had been about to turn to go when she'd had seen him, his height making him stand out in the crowd. Sam was with _him_ again. Her smile wavered for a fraction of a second before she plastered it back on her face and started to make her way over to them. Reaching them, she barely spared _him_ a glance as she wrapped an arm around Sam's waist and leaned up for a kiss, which he gave her without hesitation.

Pulling back, nipping at Sam's bottom lip as she did, Madison turned her attention to _him_. "You again?" she looked back at Sam, "So, you gonna introduce me properly to your friend this time?"

Dean's gaze was focused on Sam's lips... she'd kissed him. She'd fucking sucked his lips, and he'd let her. His eyes grew stormy. "Hi, I'm the guy that's going to fuck him tonight," he said putting his hand out and basically forcing her to release Sam's waist so she could shake it. "If you want a full report, you'll have to call him in the morning."

Sam's eyes widened as he looked from Dean to Madison's stricken expression and back. "Dude!" he looked at Madison, "He's just kidding," he told her shaking his head, "I'm not, we're not gonna," he told her through a forced chuckle, waving a hand, "No." Sam cleared his throat, "So, uh, what are you doing here?" he asked her, brows furrowed.

"I missed you, Sammykins." she pouted prettily as she moved to wrap has arms around his neck and press her body against his. "Mm... seems the dress still works." she told him with a saucy smile, before leaning in to nuzzle her face against his neck. 

"Huh?" Sam asked, then realized she meant his raging hard-on. Oh, that. Yeah. Ha! Thank God it wasn't waving a banner as to _who_ had caused it, because it sure wasn't her, or that dress, not tonight. "Oh, right, yeah." Sam licked his lips, "Uh, maybe we'd better go then, huh?" he asked her.

Following the conversations closely, Dean was practically steaming at the implication that _she_ was the reason Sam was jonesing for a fucking. As if it would last if she had Sam to herself. Then Sam dealt him a blow he hadn't expected, betraying him like that. "Sam..." he gave him a warning look.

"That's what I'm here for. Figured you could use a ride." she said, pulling her head back and giving him a look that told exactly how she had meant the 'ride' comment.

"How'd the ride go last night?" Dean retorted, nastily adding, "ten to one, you give him flat tires."

Sam tensed, but Madison didn't seem to be paying him any attention and let the comment slide. Sam looked past her to Dean, "Uh, I'll see you around," he told him with a nod, before he eased Madison away from himself and took her hand in his, guiding her toward the door. 

In two strides, Dean reached them, grabbed his arm and pulled him right back. "The hell you will. You gonna ignore this?" he dragged him up hard against his body, making sure his hip pressed against Sam's thick and hard cock straining against his zipper, "and this?" he put his hand flat over the tattoo over Sam's heart, feeling the tingling travel right from his hand to his own heart, "and this?" he asked, swooping in and fusing his mouth over Sam's as he tongue fucked him within an inch of his life... until his own hands were trembling with desire. "For what Sam? For an occasional night with her? You gonna give forever away, for that? Fucking wake up and stop torturing us... both of us... please." He shook Sam. 

Madison stood in stunned silence, mouth hanging open at the display before her. "Sam!? What the hell is he talking about!? What's going on!?"

Sam feet stumbled even though his body didn't move, as he looked at Dean. "Don't." he told him quietly through clenched teeth, "Just don't. Not here. Not now. We'll talk about this later," he told Dean, hazel eyes intent on green, before he tore his gaze away to look down at Madison's upturned face. "Nothing, Maddy. Let's go." He tugged her hand as he tore himself from Dean's grip. 

"Goddamit... Godammit..." Dean whispered harshly, lowering his head and staring at the ground. " _Eros Thora_ given to those who sacrifice. Look it up," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets, and this time striding right past the pair of them. Let her look at Sam's swollen lips, let her see his disheveled clothes... she couldn't be that stupid, could she. He slammed his hands against the door, pushing it open striding to the parking lot.

* * *

Sam sat in front of his laptop at the table in his motel room. It was four in the fucking morning, but he'd come home from Maddy's house nearly an two hours ago, due to nothing going on down south for him as soon as Dean was out of sight, which was frustrating the hell out of him. What the fuck was wrong with his dick!? It was one thing to have weird ass desires, to desire someone you barely knew, but what the fuck was the deal with going soft as soon as the guy was out of the room and not being able to get it up again? At all. Ever. Unless of course, he thought about _him_ then he had a raging hard on, but damn it to hell, he wasn't gonna be able to screw Madison with visions of Dean running through his head. What would he do if he fucking did something stupid like call out the guys name again? Yeah, that would go over like a lead balloon. Madison was wild in bed, but not _that_ wild.

After researching this 'Eros Thora' that Dean had told him about, Sam sat back in the chair with a heavy sigh. To get himself outta this mess, he was going to _have to_ screw the guy, there was no, ands, if's, or buts, about it. Not according to this information, and Sam wasn't stupid, he had looked under more than one site, and researched the hell out of it, hoping and praying that one of the sites would say something different. What, he wasn't even sure, a spell or something maybe.

But every site seemed to say the same thing:

 

**Eros Thora means gift of love and is used to refer to matching symbols that appear on the chests of two people destined to be together/made for each other. The gift of love appears to be bestowed on chosen pairs who sacrifice for others. Once the pair is matured, no other love will do for them.**

Well, fuck if that wasn't a kick in the ass. Sam sighed as he sat there, staring at the laptop screen as though it were laughing at him. It sure as hell seemed to be, or maybe it was just fate. The bitch never seemed to like him much anyway.

Sam pulled from the chair and walked over to the single bed in the center of the room, pulling out his cell as he walked and scrolling down the pre-entered numbers. _Why_ he had added Dean's number to that list, he had no clue. Yeah, right, sure he didn't. He'd done it so that he could fucking have a way to get rid of his raging hard-ons when he needed to. Let's be honest.

Sam pressed the SEND button and waited for the call to be picked up. He frowned when the call wasn't answered and instead went to voice mail. Clearing his throat, Sam licked his lips. "Uh, hi, it's me. I, uh, looked up that Eros Thora you told me about. So, I guess this is a real deal. Um, I'm not really sure how we go about doing this, I mean," he chuckled, "do I ask you out or do I just show up and we go at it like rabbits?" he cleared his throat again, "Yeah, so, uh, call me, huh? We'll figure this out together, man. And, uh, sorry about being a jerk. Bye."

Sam tossed the cell onto his bed and laid back on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before throwing an arm over his eyes with a sigh. God, he had a weird ass life...

*

Shirtless, Dean lay on floor, knees bent and feet flat, head turned toward the couch where Sam was sitting. "So how was it?" He waited until Sam looked at him. "Your _ride_?"

Sam frowned, "Flat," he answered simply with a shrug of one shoulder, "but you knew that. I researched the Eros Thora, Dean. I know now and I'm sorry I was a jerk. I..." Sam sighed, "It's not every day that a guy walks up to you the way you did in the library." He licked his lips as his gaze roamed over Dean, his cock twitching with excitement at the sight before him.

Dean gave him a long look. "You're just saying that because you need me to get you off. Like in the bathroom." 

Sam shook his head, "No," he said softly as he pulled to his feet and walked over to Dean. He stood looking down at him, toe to toe, hazel eyes locked with green. "I know now what we have to do," he nodded, "Sex. I get it. Until we do, this, this Eros Thora is going to eat at both of us, and we're just going to suffer from it if we don't do it." He nodded, "I know, I read, looked it up ten ways from Sunday. I'm," he licked his lips, tip of his tongue running slowly over his bottom lip as his eyes devoured the sight of Dean laying there on the floor shirtless. Sam cleared his throat, "I'm sorry about before.," he said as he stepped forward and lowered down onto his knees straddling Dean's waist.

"You should be," Dean agreed, reaching out and running his hands up the sides of Sam's thighs. "I burned... all night long, no relief." His voice went down an octave and got a bit raspy. "So your research... you think this is about sex, then. Have sex with me, and you're... what? Free of me?" He tried to hide the hurt in his eyes.

Sam leaned down, his lips near Dean's, curved into a slight smile, "What, you think you're gonna want seconds?" he shook his head slowly, "Never done this with a guy before, might not be very good at it." He smiled a bit wider before leaning in and brushing his lips across Dean's. Pulling back slightly, Sam nodded, "Yeah, it said sex. We need to do it if we're ever gonna get past this, the aching need. I told you, I get it now."

Dean's eyes closed as Sam's soft lips touched his. His body raged for more. Harder touches, skin to skin contact, tongue moving against tongue. So powerful, these feelings almost overwhelmed him. He took a deep breath. "It's not about sex, and it's not about one time," he said, sliding his palms up and down, gaze latching onto the bare skin at Sam's collar. God, he was dying to taste him. His hands stilled, fingers digging into firm thighs. "It's about love. It's about forever. That's the gift Sam... sex is one payoff. So is companionship. So is having a partner to rely on, someone at your back... every day. You think by doing this you can _get rid of me?_ That what you really want to do?"

Tipping his face up, he stared at Sam, willing him to see the truth. "Know what I want? I want to kiss you. To hold you... taste you. I want to fuck you... I want most of all to wake up with you. I want Eros Thora... I want the whole package."

Sam raised a hand as he pulled back, sitting up, running his hand over his face as he eyed Dean. After a minute he chuckled softly, "You almost had me goin' there for a minute." He gave him a 'you're good' look as he nodded, "Okay, so we do this and we're cool, right?" Sam leaned down again, running his tongue over Dean's lips. "Yeah," he said softly, "I can do this."

"Sorry it's such a hardship." The next time Sam's tongue darted out, Dean curled his own around it, stroking softly before sucking Sam's into his mouth. Just like that, he was engulfed by flames. His world narrowed, and all he could think about was Sam. Sam's taste, the way he felt straddling him, cock pressing into his abs each time Sam leaned in further, the lean lines of his body as Dean stroked him, the firm curve of his ass, the broad shoulders... how he sounded, how he breathed. Fuck, he could lose himself in this... had already lost himself in it.

The thought to respond to Dean's remark died before it ever became words as Dean's drew his tongue into Dean's mouth. Just that simply, Sam's world tipped and the only thing there was to cling to, the only person, and the only one he wanted, was Dean. Every one of his five senses zeroed in on Dean and Dean alone. How he felt, sounded, tasted, smelled, the way he looked, running through his minds eye. The way he'd been laying here on the floor, shirtless and looking hotter than hell, making Sam hard just at the mere sight of him. He'd never gotten hard over a guy before. Sure he'd looked, but nothing past that. But, Dean... he wanted to do so much more than look. In that moment, he wanted what Dean had joked about, forever, this, just like this. They could hunt and then every night fall into each others arms, always together, always side by side. Like family, like normal people, like lovers, mates.

The kissing grew hotter. Dean couldn't get enough. He rolled them over, grinding his hips down as he kissed Sam again and again. Did Sam really think he could get over this? This was stronger than any addiction. It was all consuming, it owned them.

Sam kissed Dean back, giving as good as he got, his hips thrusting upward to meet each of Dean's grinding movements, his cock achingly hard, feeling like he was about to bust the damn zipper of his jeans. Tearing his lips away, breaths panting out, face flushed, lips kiss swollen, Sam looked up at Dean. "Want you, want this," he nodded, "I do." he shook his head, "I dunno if all that other stuff is real or if you're making it up, but I know that I want this." His hands moved over Dean's back, clinging, caressing, exploring as much as he could as he spoke. 

Sam's words... the way he was looking at him... Dean bit his lip just to keep himself from totally losing it. How could anyone affect like this? Drive him to the very edge, and they hadn't even done anything yet. One hand cupping Sam's cheek, he spoke against Sam's lips. "Anything... anything you want, Sammy, I'll make it happen. I'll make it happen."

The way Dean was looking down at him, like he was the best, most precious thing in the world did things to Sam's insides.How many times had he watched other couples and wondered, wished he could have that. Wanted to see that look of adoration in someone's eyes when they looked at him. Sam knew what it was to have someone look at him with lust but not that look, not that kind of _love_.

Crushing their lips together one more time, Dean kissed him with wild abandon. Both their lips were swollen, maybe even bruised, but he couldn't make himself care. By the time he lifted his head, his body was on fire. "Need your clothes off," he said, unbuttoning Sam's shirt, then pulling both the shirt and Sam's tee shirt up over his head.

Sam moaned into the kiss, hands searching, mapping out Dean's body everywhere he could touch, needing, wanting him so badly. Was it normal to want to kiss this badly, to hunger for the taste of someones lips? For the feel of their mouth on yours? He knew he could get lost in these kisses alone, hell, he already was. Yeah, Sam wanted what Dean wanted, nothing between them. He wanted to feel Dean, skin to skin, wanted to mesh and mold their bodies together. Sam's breaths panted out as he watched Dean to removed his shirts, eager to reclaim those lips, to be closer, needing it so damn badly.

Bracing on one elbow, Dean looked down at Sam's powerfully built chest, his gaze moving lower to his narrow waist and on down to his fly. "Holy fuck, Sam... need you so bad." Wetting his lips, he brought his mouth down over Sam's tattoo, kissing, licking, nipping him as he made his way down. "Made for me, Sammy... all for me, all mine."

Sam nodded, eyes closing as his hips thrust upward against Dean's at his words, a small whimper escaping him. When Dean's mouth touched his tattoo heat rushed through his veins, pooling in his already hard cock, making it twitch in his jeans. "Fuck..." Sam groaned, head rolling on the floor, as he bit his lip. He nodded his head, "Yeah, yeah, Dean... oh God... please. Need you so bad."

By the time he reached Sam's waistband, he was dying. He undid Sam's jeans , smiling as he pulled a sheathed knife out, then grabbing the jeans and tugging them down Sam's thighs. At the sight of Sam's tented shorts, his mouth went completely dry.

Sam watched Dean pull down his jeans, breaths panting out, his head raised off the floor slightly. Sam's eyes met Dean's seeing him pause, "We okay? What -" he licked his lips, "What's wrong?" he asked breathlessly.

"Wrong... what could be wrong, Sam," Dean asked, barely breathing as his fingertips curled over the waistband of Sam's shorts and he started to pull it down, revealing Sam's cock inch by inch. His gaze flicked up to meet Sam's, then went back to his cock, angling up to his stomach, hot... crying for attention. 

Dean got rid of the shorts, then hooking his arms under Sam's thighs, he pulled Sam close and grasped his cock. He stroked Sam's shaft, getting used to his thickness and length, loving how much harder his touches were making him. Stretching, he licked up from the base of his cock to its tip, kissing and sucking lightly, then meeting Sam's gaze. "You want to fuck my mouth? You're always staring at it."

Sam's head fell back against the floor as Dean pulled him closer. He sucked in a ragged breath at the feel of Dean pumping his hard shaft, just the touch of his hand sent heat through Sam, but then when he moved, Sam was on fire, head rolling on the floor, lips parted, breaths panting out. A loud moan tore from Sam's throat before he bit his lip hard as he watched Dean. He shook his head slightly, "I don't-" the lie died on his tongue before he could finish saying it and instead Sam nodded, "Yes, yes, I wanna feel your mouth on me, wanna fuck your hot mouth." The mere thought had Sam's eyes rolling up.

Dean blew over Sam's dick, letting his warm breath fan over it. "Hard as you want," he said, opening his mouth wide and taking him, swallowing him even as his tip pressed against his throat. Gathering a little spit, he started to move his head up and down, sucking Sam's shaft, feeling him throb and thrust. For a few moment, he pressed Sam's hips down so he couldn't move, so he had sole control over the pressure and speed and depth. As sounds broke from his lover, he started to moan too... he was so fucking hard at the though of the pleasure he was giving Sam... so hard.

Sam arched his neck, a strangled half cry, half groan tearing from deep in this throat as Dean took his hard aching cock into his mouth. Breaths panting out, Sam looked back down, watching his dick move between those soft full lips. _Holy fuck!_ He'd had blow jobs before, but none had felt this good, this perfect, made him this out of control before.

Then Dean has holding his hips down, pinning him to the floor when all he wanted to do was fuck Dean's mouth as hard as he could, feel himself shoot down his throat. It wasn't long before Sam couldn't take it anymore. Too slow. Need more. Oh God... Please... Sam lifted his hands to grab or Dean, only to curl his fingers into tight fists and let them fall back against the floor. "Please..." Sam panted out the word, whisper soft, on the heels of a moan, his head thrashing, body squirming.

When Sam started to thrash, he released his hips and widened his mouth... letting him thrust as hard as he wanted, just like he'd promised. He knew... he knew how badly Sam had wanted to fuck his mouth, knew how badly he needed it. 

Sam started thrusting as soon as Dean released his hips, one hand going to the back of Dean's head, fingers tangling in the soft short strands. "Oh God, oh God... So good... so fucking good..." Sam's eyes rolled, his free hand curled into a tight fist on the floor, neck arched back, lips parted. 

Oh God, Sammy tasted hot, and desperate, and wild... and so fucking out of control... so completely different from his usual self. It was like he couldn't get enough, and it did things to Dean... sending blood surging straight to his cock. Hell, the pressure was building low in his belly and he was sure he was going to come with Sam... even without being touched.

Pulling his mouth off Sam for only a second, he started to roll them over. As soon as Sam realized what he was doing, Dean took him in his mouth again, landing on his back, with Sam straddling his face, looking down at him, fucking him... pushing every inch of himself in his mouth. So beautiful... so fucking beautiful...

Once Sam understood what Dean was doing, once he had him on his knees straddling Dean's face, Sam fucked down into his mouth hard, not holding anything back. He braced himself, palms flat on the floor on either side of Dean's head just above him, as he pumped his hips harder, head tilted back, lips parted, breaths panting out. _Oh God, yes...._ He needed this, he needed this so fucking bad.

Dean raised his hips, meeting air, but his own cock was pressing against his zipper. He moved his hand over his cock, cupping himself, squeezing himself through his jeans. Just as Sam started to strain... when he started to come, Dean started to come. It took everything he had, every last shred of control to hold his mouth in place for Sammy.

Sam let out a strangled cry as he came hot and hard down Dean's throat, his hips hammering his cock between Dean's full swollen lips. "Oh yeah... God yes..." Sam babbled words incoherently, eyes rolled up into his head.

*

Sam woke with a start, noticing two things at once. His damn cell was ringing and vibrating across the bed and his fucking dick was hard enough to cut glass, AGAIN. For a wet dream, he sure as hell wasn't very 'wet', unless you counted the sweat beading his brow.

 

Sam grabbed up the cell, flipping it open without looking at the display. He swallowed and licked his dry lips before speaking, "Um, yeah?" his voice still sleep husky and raw.

"Sam? You alright, boy?" Bobby let out a sigh of relief. 

Sam frowned into the phone and glanced down at the very obvious bulge in his jeans. "Uh, yeah." he answered, clearing his throat afterward. Sitting up, Sam swung his legs off the bed, "Why, Bobby? What's wrong?"

"Go back to sleep. I heard a hunter was down, attacked by vampires. Thought maybe..." he cleared his throat. "At least you didn't try to go after a nest by yourself. I'll keep you posted," he said, and started to hang up.

"What?" Sam's thoughts immediately went to Dean, which of course, had him biting back a moan. "What happened? Where?" Sam asked him as he pulled to his feet, frowning.

"Details are still making the rounds." Bobby told Sam what he'd heard and the area in which the body had been found. It was a small community which had seen its share of missing persons. "They're getting a group together, to hunt the nest down."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, okay, um, yeah, keep me posted." He would have asked more, volunteered to help, but he was too worried that it might be Dean to want to stay on the phone with Bobby a second longer. He needed to call Dean, hear for himself that he was alright.

"I'll call you." Without a goodbye, Bobby hung up and started calling others he knew had been in the area.

"Yeah, I'll talk to you later." Bobby was gone before Sam could say anything else. Ending the call, Sam quickly scrolled down to Dean's number and pushed SEND. "Come on, come on, pick up." he muttered softly, as he started to pace the floor, as the phone rang. When the voice mail picked up, Sam swore softly and hung up his cell, shoving it into his pocket and heading for he door, grabbing his jacket on the way out.


	3. Chapter 3

Mist hung thickly in the air in the pre-dawn hours, shrouding the cabin nestled in the mountains from view. Trucks were parked outside, with hunters dressed warmly walking in and out, cursing and congregating to discuss the possible location of the nest. One of their own had been killed... butchered. Someone had thrown a plaid blanket over the body, but blood had already seeped through.

"Any sign of cops?"

"No." The hunter on the look out for cops put his binocular back to his eyes.

Sam parked his car near all the others and slid from behind the wheel. He'd made it to the area in a lot less time then it should have taken, but thankfully, he hadn't run across any cops on the way. Walking toward the area where the body lay, Sam's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat as his steps faltered. He raised a hand, pressing the back of it against his mouth and nose, eyes fixed on the sliver of brown leather he could see poking out from under the blood soaked plaid blanket. Brown leather jacket... just like Dean's.

Slowly lowering his hand, Sam forced himself to walk, to take the needed steps to get close enough so that he could flip the blanket back and know for sure. He moved on numb legs, heart hammering in his chest, an empty feeling crawling its way into his heart. Tears started to prick his eyes as he walked toward the body. Everything around him seemed to be moving in slow motion, or just falling away as his world became focused on just the body laying there. What if it _was_ Dean? What was he gonna do? God, why was he feeling as if his whole world had just collapsed in on itself? He hardly knew the guy! Oh God, but there was so much he had wanted to say... to do, to...

He was standing directly over the body now, but he couldn't seem to make himself crouch or bend to toss back the blanket so that he would know, know for sure. A stray tear made it's way down his cheek as he stood there, hands trembling at his sides. Oh God, no....

Having spotted Sam, Dean headed over, about to ask if he was following him around because his dick had hurt all night... God he hoped so, for having left him like that at the bar. But as he approached, he saw Sam's somber expression. Pushing down a flash of illogical jealousy, he stepped close and put his hand on Sam's back. "You knew him, huh? He was a good guy."

Sam gasped softly hearing Dean's voice, feeling the hand on his back. Turning on a heel, Sam spun around, eyes wide. "Dean!" he glanced back over his shoulder at the man on the ground, then looked back at Dean, relief washing over him in waves. Sam threw himself at the other hunter, not caring who was around, who saw, or what they said. "Oh God, I thought it was you laying there, I thought it was you," he told him, face tucked against Dean's neck, arms wrapped tightly around him.

Startled at the first real show of affection from Sam, Dean was slow to envelope one arm around Sam. If he'd thought it was Sam under that blanket, he'd have lost it... Sam had thought... "Right here, I'm right here," he whispered, looking up and slapping him on the back as he met the curious stare of another hunter. Hunter down, they'd get that... unless Sam did something stupid like kissed him. Not sure he'd give a damn what they though, Dean tightened his hold. "Let's get outta here. Maybe grab a coffee or breakfast."

Sam nodded against his neck, though he didn't release his grip, only started walking Dean backward in what he thought was the area of the cars. Finally, after they had taken a few steps and were out of the crowd of hunters, Sam pulled up his head to look at Dean. "I thought I'd lost you before I had you." he told him softly. "Got the call from Bobby," he shook his head, "I tried to call you and when I didn't get you... the leather jacket..." he sighed and licked his lips, slowly pulling his arms from around Dean, releasing him. "Sorry, didn't mean to..." he shook his head at himself, hanging his head as he ran a hand over his face. "I, uh, looked up the thing you told me to, by-the-way." he glanced over at him as they continued to the cars.

"No, it's alright." He searched Sam's face, his heart racing... knowing he was on the cusp of finding out whether Sam believed. He waited until they were next to his car, and putting one hand on the roof, braced himself. "So what do you think? You want to make a go of it?" He probably should let Sam answer, but he couldn't help adding. "It's not gonna go away Sam, not even if you try to walk away from this with a hundred women."

Sam smiled slightly as he nodded, "Yeah, you told me." he said, thinking of his dream, shook his head after that, "nevermind, don't ask." Sam licked his lips as he eyed Dean. "I guess, I mean, I..." he nodded, "Yeah, I want to." He smiled softly, shyly, even managing to blush a little.

A practiced smug smile started to spread across Dean's face, but he suddenly let out a heartfelt, "Thank God.... I... I know there's no way out, but I don't know, thought maybe you'd be the exception and I'd walk around with a hole in my heart . Okay, enough with the chick flick moment." He cleared his throat. "You want to take this slowly or quickly?"

Sam quirked a brow, "Slowly or quickly?" he shook his head, "You askin' me if I need dinner and a movie first?" he chuckled, "Nah, I'm good. Coffee, coffee would be good though... before we go back to..." he quirked a brow, "your place?"

"Glad you're not being a girl _over this_ ," he answered. "Follow me, there's a coffee shop near where I'm staying." Reaching behind him, he opened the door and slid inside. Pulling it shut, he rolled down the window, "Sam." When Sam bent over to look in the window, and Dean was damned sure the other hunters couldn't see, he leaned in and kissed him quickly on the lips. Course that sent the blood straight to his cock so he wasn't sure it had been a great idea. "Drive fast."

Sam huffed at Dean's implication that he had acted like a girl about _anything_. But then Dean's lips were pressed against his sending heat through his system, pooling in his groin. He smiled slightly at Dean's order that he drive fast, as if there had been a question in the matter after the kiss. Sam nodded as he pulled back and turned, heading toward his car, walking faster than was probably necessary.

* * *

After parking in the lot of the adjoining motel, Dean waited for Sam at the doorway to the cafeteria. He was pretty sure he was grinning like a fool, but he didn't care. He was happy and he wasn't about to hide it.

Pulling his car up next to Dean's, Sam smiled up at him through the windshield. Yeah, he was grinning and turning five shades of red, but hell Dean didn't seem to mind.

Sliding from behind the wheel, Sam closed his car door and shoved his hands into his front jean pockets as he started for the door of the cafeteria. Reaching Dean he paused, still smiling. "You look like the cat about to eat the canary." Sam told him softly, before leaning in and dropping a small kiss on Dean's lips before pulling one hand from his jeans pockets and pushing open the door.

"That makes _you_ the canary," Dean answered walking in, his mouth tingling from just that light touch. Sam had kissed him. He hadn't had to urge, or ask, or steal a kiss... Sam had just leaned in and kissed him. No way he was wiping his grin off his face. If anything, he was smiling wider.

He looked at the tables and the 'to go' line. "We taking it with us or you wanna sit?" He was aching to touch Sam, to kiss him, to learn his body. All those dreams he'd had, at first of a man's face covered in shadows, and later, once he'd found Sam, it had been Sam who came in his dreams, giving him satisfaction and peace... but only in the dreams. 

Sam nodded toward the line. "We can get it to go." He smiled at Dean, "I just need some caffeine or I'm gonna fall asleep on you," he said as he stepped past him toward the line. Okay, they were both smiling like a couple of idiots and if he was totally honest with himself he was flirting a little with Dean. What the hell _that_ was about, he hadn't a clue. Sam sighed and shook his head. If someone would have told him a week ago that he was going to be doing this, he would have... well, he would have done just what he did to Dean in the library. Told them to go to hell. My how things change...

"We'd better get you a double then, I don't think either of us are getting sleep for a while." That was part of the reason he'd shot out of his room in the early hours... the dreams and then waking up hurting, aching for Sam... it had been to escape that, and then he'd heard about the hunter biting it. Now that Sam was willing, he wasn't going to waste any time, even if they had the rest of their lives ahead of them.

*

Carrying his coffee cup in one hand, his other hand tucked into the pocket of his jeans, Sam held the door open with his back for Dean to walk out, following after him as he passed. "You realize a double is going to make me jittery as hell, right?" Sam asked looking over the rim of his cup as he took a drink. "I'll be vibrating by the time I finish this."

Dean took a double look at Sam. He didn't know him well enough to know whether he was being completely innocent, or if he was flirting. "You'll be vibrating Sammy, but I can't promise it'll be because of the coffee or the magic fingers." Lengthening his strides, he crossed the lot and opened the door to his room. It was decent, and even had a sofa and chair in front of the t.v., which was an improvement on many of the rooms he'd stayed at.

Sam looked at Dean with wide eyes before quickly taking another sip of coffee. Sure Sam had had his share of sex, but never with a guy and the wildest he would have to say he got was biting and roughness during the act. As far as anything else... Sam cleared his throat as he walked a bit faster.

"Come in." Sam's body brushed his and Dean sucked his breath in. He could tell that Sam tensed too, but in all the _right ways_. He cleared his throat, "if it's _always_ like this, could be a little inconvenient... on hunts."

Sam turned and looked back at Dean, after his gaze made a quick scan of the room out of habit. "We could wear armor," he suggested with a teasing smile.

"Or learn to give quickies." He was pretty sure it wouldn't matter how much metal Sam surrounded his body with, he'd still affect him. Closing the door, he took his jacket off and threw it on the back of the chair, then sat on the couch, nodding for Sam to sit next to him. It wasn't lost on him that usually he'd be nodding toward the chair across from himself. 

Just as Sam started to sit, Dean asked, "Do you snore? I mean that would be alright, I could deal...but..."

Sam paused and smiled wider as he shook his head, claiming his seat next to Dean. "No, I don't snore. Never been told that I do anyway." Sam licked his lips, head slightly bowed as he looked down at the cup in his hands. "I," he raised his head, looking over at Dean. "I have nightmares sometimes. Talk in my sleep," he shrugged, "but only sometimes. You? Anything I should know?"

"Me ... nah, I'm pretty perfect, or so I'm told." Dean took a sip of his coffee, ignoring the look that crossed Sam's face. "A lot of us have nightmares. What scares you in your sleep?" A fiercely protective feeling washed over him as he internally vowed to fix whatever it was giving Sam a hard time sleeping.

Sam shrugged a shoulder as he looked back down at his coffee cup. "Nothing important," he told him softly, frowning slightly, brows furrowed. Sam took a breath and raised his head, looking back over at Dean. "Do you, um, have any family around? Father? Mother? Brother? Sister? Anything?"

"No," he shook his head, then added, "just you. You got anyone?" He wasn't going to let the nightmare issue rest, but he could push later since he had this feeling that Sam didn't want to talk about it yet, and how could he blame him. They might be meant for each other, but they were still strangers. 

Sam smiled softly, "Bobby," he shrugged. "He's not really related to me, but, he thinks he is." Sam nodded, "Feels like he is. Other than that no." He shook his head, starting to fidget nervously.

"Bobby Singer? I know him." Searching Sam's face, then looking down at the hand that seemed to be tapping out a rhythm on his thigh, Dean moved closer put his hand over Sam's, trapping it over his leg. "I've dreamt about this a hundred times Sam, there's nothing to worry about. I know... I know if feels like the first time all over again, but its gonna be alright... gonna be good," he promised, locking gazes with him. Already, his heart was knocking against his chest.

Sam swallowed as he gazed into jade green eyes and bit his lip, "Yeah," he nodded, "I know." Sam looked down for a second before looking back up into Dean's eyes. "Dreamt about it, uh, twice." He nodded a small shy smile curving his lips, making his dimples show.

"Yeah? Good." The instant he let Sam's hand go, he saw him start to fidget again. "Can I see it? Your tattoo?" he asked. It wasn't really a tattoo, but it wasn't a birthmark either so he had no idea what to call it. "I'll show you mine if you..." Without waiting for an answer, he started removing his shirt.

Sam opened his mouth to answer Dean only to snap it closed again as he watched him remove his shirt, belatedly remembering that he was suppose to be removing his own. Sitting forward slightly, Sam set his coffee down and turned toward Dean more as he started to unbutton his button-up, reaching the bottom, he pulled the shirt off his shoulders by the hem, shrugging out of it and letting the shirt pool behind him on the sofa. Reaching for the hem of his tee, he brought it up and over his head, stuffing it onto the sofa beside him. Running a hand through his mop of chestnut hair, Sam's gaze roamed over Dean's smooth bare chest and lower to his tight abs. Raising his eyes to Dean's face once more, Sam offered a nervous smile and licked his lips.

Dean slowly let out his breath. He'd known Sam was built, but without clothes on... he was unbelievably perfect. He licked his lips as his heated gaze traveled down the expanse of Sam's tightly muscled chest, to his twelve pack, and back up to look at the tatt. "It's exactly like mine." His gaze flicking to Sam's for permission, he stretched his arm out and put his palm over the marking. His palm tingled, sending bolts of heat throughout his body. "You feel that?" he asked, breathless.

Sam nodded, though he tensed slightly out of nerves. The heat and tingling sensations had Sam biting his lip, as his gaze went from Dean's face to his hand and back. "Yeah," Sam answered breathlessly, heat pooling in his groin from just that simple contact. "I do."

Slowly Sam reached out, biting his lip as hazel eyes met jade, seeking permission before he looked back at Dean's tatt, laying his palm flat on it. Sam let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and glanced at Dean's face, his thumb making slow circles against the mark on Dean's chest as he looked at his face.

Sam chuckled softly, bowing his head for a moment, before raising it again, cheeks stained a soft shade of pink. "Sorry, I," he shook his head, "we just... this reminds me of a couple a virgins."

"Not for long. Sam?" The instant Sam looked back, Dean leaned in and slanted his mouth over his, never taking his hand off the tatt. It was like nothing he'd ever felt, nothing he could imagine. It was like they were in a world of their own, isolated, perfect. The heat of Sam's mouth, his tongue working against Dean's, his taste... the little electrical jolts passing through his body each time one of their hands moved over the others' mark, the feel of skin against skin as he twisted slightly to bring himself into firmer contact with Sam. 

Sighing into the kiss, Sam leaned toward Dean, lifting a hand to cup the nape of his neck as they kissed.

As he deepened the kiss, Dean knew this was going to be a lifelong addiction. An obsession. Thank god it wouldn't be a one way thing because he didn't know how he would ever be able to stand it, if it were. "You are my life. You are my soul. I will put you above all others," he muttered, between kisses, unknowingly saying the ancient words that bonded those given the gift of Eros.

Sam nipped and licked at Dean's bottom lip between their kisses and his words, bringing his other arm around Dean's body, hand in the center of his back to pull him in closer still, fingertips digging in slightly. 

"Oh God, baby, you feel so fucking good." One minute Dean wanted to hold Sam like he was the most precious thing in the world, and the next he wanted to get rough, to push him down on the ground and get to the fucking. Like he'd wanted to at the bar. The feelings warred within him, but he kept his control. This was their first time... it should be special, he wanted it to be.

It was odd, having a guy call him 'baby', but not bad, not when it was Dean saying it, if anything, it made his heart ache sweetly, his cock twitch more as Dean kissed and spoke. God, could a person get turned on by the sound of someone else's voice? Sam had never thought so, not until now. Inching closer until there was no room between them, Sam moved his arm, wrapping Dean tightly in his embrace, hands running over his back, then pulling back slightly to reach new areas he had yet to touch.

He moved his hand up and down Sam's chest, and his other hand over his back, mapping him, learning his body, memorizing the places that seemed to make Sam tense or moan. Breathing harder, he started to kiss Sam's eyes, his cheeks, his jaw. "So goddamned perfect. I never though a guy could be... but..." Moving his mouth down to Sam's throat, he sucked on the soft skin, hard enough to leave a mark, then licked it better. "So damned sexy."

Sam's breaths panted out, he bit his lip, running his hands over Dean's skin, touching, learning, mapping him out in return, echoing Deans exploration. Sucking in a breath, Sam moaned softly, "Mm... so good..." he bit his lip, as his fingers curled against Dean's flesh, fingertips pressing in, "Knew it would be," he moaned, "like my dreams."

"Better than in my dreams," Dean answered, nipping him, then lifting his head and looking toward the bed. He got up, pulling Sam up with him, dragging his body close, gripping his hip as he kissed him and walked backwards toward the bed. "I wanna know everything about you. From the minute you were born, till now... and lets see how much of you I can taste while you tell me."

Half grinning, Dean twisted around and shoved Sam down on his back, onto the bed. The sight of his mate, laying there, looking at him, hazel eyes bright and shining, did things to his insides. Bending over him, he undid Sam's button and fly. "Go on."

Sam licked his lips, breathing heavily, as he nodded, watching Dean unfasten his jeans, then remove his boots. "Um, I was born May second, Nineteen eighty-three, my parents were hunters, I, um," Sam's breath caught as Dean pulled his jeans completely off, tossing them onto the floor at the foot of the bed. Hazel eyes met green before Sam's eyes fluttered closed. "Um, we traveled," he shook his head, frowning slightly, "all over, all the time." Each word was breathlessly spoken as he lay there and allowed Dean to undress him. Sam's cock was hard and heavy, straining against the cotton of his boxers, between that distraction and the feel of Dean's touch, the tingling sensations, Sam was having a having a hard time thinking let alone talking.

"Kinda like me, but I... well it was just dad and me. Mom didn't like the family business." He diverted his eyes, and started to take his jeans off. When he looked back, he let his eyes roam over every inch of Sam, before climbing on the bed, straddling his hips. Taking Sam's hands, he spread them out on the bed away from his body. "Go on." Leaning over, he started to kiss and stroke and learn every inch of his lovers body, from neck down, in excruciating detail, even though his body was screaming for fast and hard, for action.

Sam had his eyes closed when the bed dipped and Dean straddled him. His hands immediately moved to rest on Dean's thighs, only to be moved out away, depriving him from touching Dean His protest, died on his tongue as he felt Dean's mouth at his neck, his hands caressing his body. 'Go on', Dean had told him. 'Go on', right. Sam frowned slightly as he tried to think.

"I was, um, we were never in any area for long, so I never made real friends. I -" Sam sighed moaning softly. He continued to talk and talk, as much as he could think to, but after a while, though Dean's touch excited him, it apparently also relaxed him as he slowly dozed off into a dreamless sleep.

Dean had barely gotten to Sam's stomach when he realized Sam was asleep. No way? Lifting his head, he confirmed that the even breathing and silence meant Sammy had gone to sleep on him. Strangely, he wasn't mad, not at all. Wasn't as if he hadn't gotten used to wanting Sam and not having him... and he could wait. 

He moved up the bed, and drew Sam to him, spooning behind him. Yeah maybe. He rubbed his still hard cock up against his ass a couple of times, but his own eyes fluttered shut and his body felt heavy. Damn... this falling asleep thing better not be a side effect of the tattoo, cause that would be ironic... making 'em horny and forcing 'em to sleep.

* * *

Dean was hot, so fucking hot. He dreamt of Sammy on him, under him... dreamt of doing him against the wall, over a table, in the car. He saw Madison reaching for him, and growled, "Mine. Mine, Sammy is mine."

Sam started to wake, floating somewhere between consciousness and sleep he heard Dean's voice, felt his hand on his hard cock, his body alive with sensations, tingling, aching, needing Dean. _Not another Dream. Another dream I'm going to wake from aching and hard with nothing to make it go away, without Dean there. Without relief._

Sam's hips moved, thrusting his hard length into the hand gripping him. Sam moaned, as his head arched back, lips parting. "Please... don't stop, don't leave me, Dean." The words were a breathless whisper, "Need you, need this, so bad." A small whimper tore from Sam's throat, "Yes, baby, oh God yes, yours. I swear, yes. Fuck, I need you." He nearly whined, lashes fluttering as his eyes slowly opened, his own hand reaching down to wrap around Dean's, making Dean squeeze him harder as he thrust into their hands. "Oh God..."

Between the dreams and the raging hard on, Dean woke with a curse on his lips. The instant he became aware that this was no dream, that Sammy was with him, that his hand was around his lover... that his lover was begging him for more, Dean wasted no time. This time, he was claiming Sam as his, body and soul... he was claiming him. Hooking one leg over Sam's, he pulled himself as close as possible, grinding his arousal against Sam's ass, imagining himself entering Sam, as he pumped Sam in counterpoint to his thrusts. Over Sam's ear, he spoke, his voice a bit broken. "Right here, Sam... right here... always here, always for you." 

Sam's breaths panted out as he continued to thrust his cock into Dean's fisted hand, soft moans and tiny whimpers of need leaving him. _Don't be a dream. Please, don't be a dream, not this time._ Sam sucked in a ragged breath as his head rolled on the pillow, looking back over his shoulder at Dean, eyes heavy lidded and full of lust. "Mmm... you."

Dean tried to keep his control, but with Sam so damned hot and moving so desperately, he couldn't ... just couldn't. "Fuck... Sam... I ... need you so bad, for so long. Want you," he leaned in a little more and kissed him, hard, almost brutally, knowing that at the pace they were going, they were both going to be bruised and hurting by the time they were done. He was so damned hard, his cock was leaking and soaking both his and Sam's shorts, and all he could think about was how it would feel with nothing between them. "Need to be inside you, need to know what you feel like... baby please?" 

Sam's eyes had closed as he bit his lip, thrusting his hips harder, one hand reaching back to pull Dean closer, his other still clasped over Dean's hand on his cock. "Huh? Wha?" Sam frowned, brows furrowing, over closed eyes. "I -" he licked his lips, nodding, "Uh, okay, yeah. I don't... I've never..." he sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, cock leaking, achingly hard. "Just need to cum so bad, need you so much."

He could do no other than see to his mate's needs. Biting his lip so hard he drew blood, Dean managed to get a shred of his control back. "Okay... okay Sammy," he was still thrusting against Sam's ass, but trying to think of anything else just to hold it together. "Come for me... come now, come." His eyes rolled back as he felt Sam start to strain. As waves of his lover's pleasure broke over him, Dean bit himself again, trying to hang on.

Sam didn't think it was possible, didn't think he could cum right then, not even as hard as he was, but with Dean's words, it felt like his orgasm was being ripped from him, pulled from his toes up as heat moved through his veins, pooling low in his belly, his balls drawing up. Muscles clenched, Sam tilted his head back on the pillow, lips parted. "Oh God..." Sam came with a shout, his body convulsing, jerking as he thrust his cock into Dean's fist.

Slowly, the intense orgasm subsided, and Sam's body relaxed, though his cock remained hard in Dean's hand. Licking his lips, Sam rolled onto his back, forcing Dean to move back slightly. His breath panted out through parted lips as he looked up at Dean. "Oh God..." he shook his head, "wasn't a dream, not this time." His words were breathless and soft as he reached up with one hand to cup the back of Dean's neck and pull him in for a kiss.

Still hard as hell, Dean rolled on top of Sam, kissing and thrusting against him. Thoughts of having him just the way he wanted still tortured him, but first he was going to show Sam how wonderful this could be. And he wanted, no needed to see Sam's face when he came again. 

Breaking the kiss, and deliberately rubbing his cock over Sam's, he looked down into his lover's face. "Come again, do it... and don't look away Sammy. Com for me. Now." 

Sam panted out his breaths as he looked up at Dean. He shook his head. What was he talking about? He'd just cum, there was no way that he could...

Then Sam felt it, the intense sensations of a few moments ago, heat singing through his veins, pooling low in his gut as his muscles tensed, balls drawing up. Sam's eyes widened as he looked up at Dean and bit his lip, hands falling to the bedsheets to grasp the cotton in fisted hands, knuckles turning white. Sam's lips parted as his head pulled up off the pillow slightly, then crashed back as the first ribbon of cum left him, neck arched Sam panted, moaning and gasping, mewling and groaning enough to make a porn star proud.

Coming down from his second orgasm, Sam panted as he stared up at Dean in shock, eyes glazed and unfocused. He licked his lips and shook his head, panting hard, "I didn't think...." he drew in a deep breath, head rolling. "Good God..." he sighed the words, blinking his eyes closed and open before looking back at Dean, a small smile slowly curving his lips. "Cum for me," he whispered to Dean, "I wanna see."

Dean had wanted so badly to come inside Sam, but Sam's command made it impossible. Groaning out loud, he straightened his arms, hands braced on the mattress, arching back but looking down at Sam so he could see his face. "Holy..." heat welled up low in his belly, his balls drawing painfully tight, and then he was coming... his orgasm an explosion of intense sensations that had him crying out Sam's name. His arms shook slightly, as he held himself up, his warm cum mixing with Sam's and spurting over their stomachs. 

He'd known it would be good. He hadn't known it could be THAT good. Lowering, he placed his forehead against Sam's. "For once, I think the fates got it right. I'm gonna love you over and over, Sam. Love you."

Sam smiled, wrapping his arms around Dean, pulling him in closer, as he wrapped his legs around his thighs, holding him there. He tilted his head up, slanting his mouth over Dean's kissing him hard, his head sliding side to side, lips and teeth grinding together as they kissed, rough and hungry, like they couldn't get enough of one another.

Sam slowly rocked his hips under Dean as they kissed, hands moving over his back, up toward his neck, his hair, back down, sliding down his back hands grasping Dean's ass, pressing him closer as Sam rocked his hips up against him. Sam nipped at Dean's lip as the kiss ended, hazel eyes opening to gaze into green. "It's weird, I suddenly feel like I've known you forever." He kissed him again, softly, gently almost with awe. "Love me then," Sam told him, nodding, "wanna feel you. Love you."

It was true, the same feeling was settling into Dean's chest. "Ditto," he nodded, kissing him again. "Need you..." At Sam's whispered request, his cock had already come to attention. The thought of coming inside Sam burned in his mind, in his soul... made him ache and throb like he hadn't just released. Dean barely breathed as Sam rocked against him, pulling him close. "One minute, lemme get some lube," he said, untangling himself from Sam's long limbs and rolling over to reach into the drawer of the nightstand.

Sam turned his head, watching Dean. He bit his lip, feeling suddenly slightly self conscious. He wanted this, that much was certain, but it didn't mean that what they were about to do wasn't making him feel uncomfortable. Especially since he had told Dean that he had never done this before with a guy, but Dean had never said... anything.

A moment later, Dean was between Sam's legs, smiling as he nudged his knees apart. "Don't be shy."

Sam's face turned a soft shade of crimson as Dean knelt between his legs, hazel eyes intent on his movements. Licking his lips, Sam nodded. "Okay," he shook his head slightly, "I'm not." he lied, partly for himself, partly for Dean. Sam worried his bottom lip a few moments before curiosity got the better of him. Part of him didn't want to know, another part _had to_. "Um, have you," he swallowed and turned his head, looking away as he felt his cheeks burn a brighter shade of red, "done this before?" clearing his throat, Sam looked back at him, biting his lip.

Pushing Sam's legs even wider apart, Dean nodded as he drizzled some lube into his hands and warmed it up. "A thousand times." He spread the liquid over Sam's tight hole, sucking his breath in at the thought that in a few minutes, he'd be inside Sam... they'd be one. 

Sam nodded, biting just a little harder. Of course Dean had done it before. What was he thinking asking, hoping that maybe he was his first too.

"Always with you. Always inside my mind," Dean said, looking up to meet Sam's gaze, and working a finger slowly inside him. God... he was so damned tight. "My virgin," he whispered, and kissed the inside of Sam's thigh, before trying again.

As Dean continued, Sam's lips curved into a small smile, a sigh of relief leaving him. He had no right to want it, no right to be upset if it weren't so, but it warmed his heart to know that this was something that was just theirs, always. He released a shaky breath, chuckling softly at the virgin comment as his head rolled on the pillow, trying to focus on relaxing.

The invasion of Dean's finger wasn't really _hurting_ as much as burning, causing a feeling of pressure at first. Sam licked his lips and looked back, watching Dean. "You're..." he frowned slightly, "beautiful." he shook his head, "Never really thought that about a guy before. Not like this, not like you."

"Not so much beautiful as ruggedly handsome," Dean corrected, his mirth-filled eyes still on Sam's. "You're the one who is beautiful. Everywhere," his gaze dropped down between Sam's legs. Lowering his head, he moved his mouth over Sam's cock, smiling as he felt his lover harden yet again. As he teased with his wet tongue, Dean worked a second finger inside Sam, then started to move in and out, each time just a little further, his fingers slightly curled as he searched for Sam's pleasure point.

Sam smiled wider at Dean's words and shook his head slightly before licking his lips, his gaze following Dean's dipping down toward his groin. He sucked in a breath, biting his lip as Dean lowered his head and ran his tongue along the length of his shaft. His cock pulsing and swelling as Dean worked his tongue on him. Sam's breaths began panting out, neck arched back, lips parted. His eyes opened and closed as he bit his lip, moans escaping, head rolling at the feeling of Dean's fingers invading him, stretching him. When Dean curled his fingers, Sam's head tossed on the pillow, then pleasure so intense that Sam saw white shot through him. Crying out, he pressed one hand flat against the bed and grasped at Dean's head with the other, fingers snagging the short strands of Dean's hair, clutching them tightly in his fist.

The lack of any verbal answers, and Sam's body language were enough to let Dean know his Sammy was enjoying this. He stared to weave his fingers in and out a little quicker, stretching him slightly more. All the while, he used his mouth to suck, nipped with his lips and licked randomly, so that Sam could never predict whether he would touch his balls, his inner thighs or his cock... and was waiting for each touch. He felt Sam's body shudder slightly, and his own tense in reaction. Fuck... his cock was so hard it was aching. 

He took as much time as he could preparing Sam, but he couldn't fight the heat within him much longer. Sucking on Sam's cock a few more times, he pulled off and repositioned himself, on his knees between Sam's legs. He lubed himself up, his precum smearing along with the ointment, and then he aligned the blunt tip of his cock with Sam's tightly puckered hole. 

"Sammy, love you, always... forever," he crooned, gripping Sam's hips and pushing inside. He tried to go slowly, but the heat between them was too damned strong. One hard thrust, and he was inside, his heart knocking against his chest. "Oh God, I'm sorry... you alright?" he asked, trembling inside him, fighting not to move even when his body was demanding he fuck the way they fucked in his dreams.

Sam's lips parted, mouth opening to tell Dean that he loved him, that they would be together forever, only to clamp his mouth closed again, biting his lip hard as Dean pushed into him. He held his breath as the width of Dean's cock pushed him open wider, burned as he slid further inside, muscles trying to stop the invasion. Sam forced himself to relax, gasping in breaths as his head rolled on the pillow, teeth clenched. 

Sam moved one arm around Dean, holding him, the other remained gripping the sheet. He lay there a moment, eyes squeezed closed trying to get use to the feeling of Dean being inside him. Slowly Sam opened his eyes and looked back at Dean, nodding, "Yeah," he panted out the word, "I'm okay. Mmm..." Sam's head rolled, eyes closing once more. He licked his lips, "Just gimme a second." Taking a deep breath, Sam looked back at Dean again and lifted his head just slightly off the pillow so he could kiss Dean's lips softly. "Do it, love me. I'm fine." he whispered softly, hazel eyes gazing into green, before he let his head fall back onto the pillow a soft moan leaving him.

"You sure?" Taking a long shaky breath, Dean slowly pulled out, the pushed back inside Sam, eyes locked with his lover's for signs of pain. "So tight Sam, so fucking tight... perfect," he whispered, pulling out again, this time driving back inside, throwing his head back at the intensity of the heat inching through his system. "Oh my God..." Taking a couple more breaths, he leaned down, hooking his arms under Sam and over his shoulders and bring his mouth down on his lover's.

Sam nodded as he wiggled his hips just a tad to be sure. He pressed his lips together, head rolling on the pillow, eyes closed as Dean started to move. He sucked in a breath, letting it out in an almost sigh, as he arched back against Dean's thrusts, biting his bottom lip. "Mmm... so full... like you're part of me now. Feels so good..." Sam spoke softly, neck arching, his hand on Dean's back gripping harder, fingertips digging in.

It was like a dam broke. All of a sudden, Dean couldn't help himself, he couldn't slow himself... he started to fuck Sam hard, harder with each thrust, grunting with need, whispering words of love through gritted teeth. It ached, it hurt when he tried to slow. He wanted Sam so bad, so fucking bad, it was no longer in his power to give him time, or take it easy. "Fuck.. fuck.. fuck..." 

As Dean's thrusts got harder, Sam pushed back just as hard. Lips parted, breaths gasping out, he hooked his ankles together behind Dean's back, locking him in close, wrapping his arms around Dean. As he clung to Dean, pants, moans and groans left his parted lips. _Oh God... Oh God... Oh God..._

A sizzling bolt of energy suddenly shot from Sam's tattoo to Dean's, spreading pure pleasure through both their systems. Dean cried out Sam's name, fucking just that little bit harder as waves of the strange energy washed over him, intensifying the experience.

Sam's back arched as the bolt of energy shot through them, muscles clenching around Dean's cock inside as Sam sucked in an audible gasping breath. "Dean!" If it were possible, Sam tried to hold him tighter, grip bruisingly hard. His head thrashed, breaths panting out as he thrust back against each of Dean's thrusts, their movements causing friction against his cock trapped between their bodies. 

Sam's back arched again as heat pooled low in his stomach, balls drawing up tight. Fuck! "Dean! Oh my god!" Sam gasped, head rolling as he pushed back against Dean's thrusts harder still. "Fuck! Baby, gonna cum! Cum with me, please! Holy shit!" Sam arched his neck back, face red, lips parted, eyes squeezed tightly closed, muscles tensing. Sam came hard crying out Dean's name, clinging to him, pulling on him to try to get him closer still. 

"Yes... yes," Dean shouted, Sam's demand causing him to thrust two more times, hard, and then he was burning out of control. Every muscle in his body tensing as he climaxed, throwing his head back, gripping Sam's shoulders so hard he knew his fingers would leave marks, groaning out his name again and again as Sam's muscles squeezed him, milked his cock dry. It went on and on, far longer than he thought it could, and then he collapsed on top of Sam, messily finding his mouth with his, kissing him and tasting the salt of his tears. "I love you baby... Don't know how I did it, lived without you for so long. Hated my life growing up," he admitted. "But if it weren't for being a hunter... this couldn't be. I wouldn't give this up for anything. Not for the normal life I dreamed about... and not for some house with a picket fence." He lifted his head and looked down into Sam's flushed face. "You are my home."

Sam's eyes fluttered open as Dean broke the kiss, tear-filled hazel eyes gazing up into tear-filled green. As Sam listed to Dean, he squeezed his eyes closed, as he bit his lip to keep it from quivering, another tear escaping to run down into the hair at his temple. 

His hands moved to cup the sides of Dean's face as he lifted his head up off the pillows and slanted his mouth over Dean's. "I love you so much," he shook his head, "I didn't think it was possible... to ever love _anyone_ like this, but..." he crushed their lips together again, kissing Dean hard, with everything he had. Pulling back, Sam turned one hand and ran the backs of his fingers down the side of Dean's face. "Thanks for not giving up on me... on us." he kissed him again, "I never had the normal shit growing up, but if hunting evil brought me you," he shook his head, "I don't wanna know normal. This is _so_ much better than normal. We're gonna be this happy forever." He nodded, "I promise," Sam licked his lips, "You are my life. You are my soul. I will put you above all others," he told Dean, lips slowly curving into a smile, dimples showing, as he dipped his head, placing his forehead against Dean's.

As the ritualistic words of the bond were spoken, a peace like he'd never known entered Dean's heart. "Ditto," he smiled, moving slightly so their lips touched. "You and me, we're gonna give the demons hell by day, and take our piece of heaven by night. And in the mornings. Maybe a mid-afternoon snack. We just gotta learn one thing... quickies." Gathering Sam close, he held him like he'd never let him go. And he wouldn't... not until death parted them, and according to legend, they would leave the earth together.

THE END


End file.
